Good Men
by imagineyourownworld
Summary: A look at what might happen if Beth and Daryl form a bond earlier in the series. Beth believes Daryl to be a good man and Daryl finds that, despite knowing better, he wants Beth to continue looking at him like he is one. Romance/Horror/Action/Angst/Suspense. S2 onward with my own take on things.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Unbeta'd. A Bethyl/Deth fanfiction. Takes place more or less at the end of S2 and from there events will be changed. This is not a fic that follows the original plotline, this is my own take on The Walking Dead after S2. There will be curse words and graphic violence (physical and mental) and a few "adult" scenes will be thrown in too. Let me know what you think if you have the time since I haven't written anything in years. Thanks for reading my fic either way.

Disclaimer: Don't own anything, only this plot.

* * *

Good Men

CHAPTER 1

From a young age her daddy had warned her that he would only give his blessing to a good man. She used to listen to her daddy with a smile and a wish in her heart that she find a man as good as her daddy portrayed men to be. Her daddy told her a good man would always take care of his own, that he would provide and care for his family before taking his own needs into consideration. He would be selfless and passionate and loyal and would willingly lay down his life to protect those he loved. He would be strong, a leader, and she would trust with absolute certainty that he would keep her safe.

In Beth Greene's eyes, her daddy was the epitome of a good man.

It was clear Hershel Greene loved his daughters fiercely. It was indisputable. He was overprotective to a fault and was a sight to behold if anyone dared to threaten his family. He had loved both his wives for very different reasons, but had loved them with equal devotion all the same. Hershel was affectionate and unafraid to show his gratitude for having his two daughters in his life. He had taken on another man's child, had raised him as his own son and had been distraught when Shawn had been bitten. He was resilient and firm in his beliefs and Beth knew without a doubt that he would die for her and Maggie.

For the first seventeen years of her life, Beth had not met another good man. Jimmy, as lovely and kind and gentle as he was, could not be categorised as a good man. Beth simply didn't see him as a man. He was just a boy with an easy smile and a comfortable personality and for some time now Beth had taken to seeing him as a brother she wished to shelter, to preserve his light hearted personality before the world outside the farm could taint him.

The night Rick Grimes came to their porch, bloodied and frightened, with a plea to save his dying son was the same night Beth had determined that Rick was a good man too. He had cradled his sons body as though he believed if he willed it enough, Carl would draw strength from him and open his eyes. He had been tormented over Carl's condition. And when he demanded more of his blood be taken whilst swaying on weak feet, he had firmly cemented his place in her mind as a good man. Even later, when his group had settled on their farm, she would watch Rick's eyes soften for his wife, she saw how he tried to protect his group and took on responsibility and her respect for him grew.

Shane was not a good man. Beth was unsure why she felt confident in her judgement of his character when he had given her no reason to believe him to be anything less than a good man. She felt guilty for knowing he was once a cop yet still she couldn't change her mind. It was something instinctual; it warned her Shane was unpredictable, perhaps unstable. That made him dangerous.

As for the other men in Rick's group, Beth hadn't given them much thought. Carl was too young, but she predicted with a father like Rick he would grow into a fine young man. But Beth hadn't spent enough time with the other men for them to make an honest impression on her. At times she wondered if she should take more notice of Glenn, but reasoned her sister was capable of taking care of herself.

Yet, when Daryl Dixon almost killed himself searching for Carol's lost little girl, when he went half mad from the despondency of the situation, Beth finally took notice of him.

All Beth knew of Daryl Dixon was that he was a redneck with impulse control issues. He angered easily, trusted no one and had terrible self esteem issues. These were not judgements of his character, these were facts. Beth had never bothered to find out more about the man simply because she had barely spoken more than two words to him. Her daddy had raised her better than to judge a person based on their socio-economic background and stereotypical views. Beth simply hadn't thought about the man, period. Shane was the only person she had ever judged before knowing him.

But now that Beth knew how hard the crossbow wielding redneck had pushed himself to find a child that wasn't his, now that she knew that, even whilst injured, he insisted on going back into the woods to continue his search, now that she knew he wanted to protect a person that wasn't able to protect themselves in this new world, he had Beth in slight awe of him.

And as startled blue eyes bore into her own, panicked and vulnerable, Beth was convinced Daryl Dixon was a good man and she wanted him to know it. And as she watched him work himself into a temper over his exposed back, she realised no matter what he insisted, nor what his actions implied, nor what he believed himself, he would never tarnish her new perspective of him. There was a good man beneath his gruff, troubled exterior. A man worthy of a place right next to her father.

'Get out!'

Beth flinched at the rough bellow, the cutlery on the tray she held clinking together at the sharp movement. Daryl fought to support his weight on one arm in his weakened state as his other hand blindly clawed at his tattered blanket at the end of his makeshift bedding. Beth thought about telling him that she had already scrutinized every detail of his back while her daddy had tended to his wounds last night, but then speculated the confession would likely work him into more of a frenzy. Instead, Beth respectfully lowered her eyes away from his disfigured back.

'You deaf, girl? I said get out.' Daryl spat as he finally managed to tug his blanket over his broad shoulders. He glanced back at her hovering timidly by the entrance of his tent, his eyebrows set in a firm frown and his eyes narrowed. A muscle in his jaw ticked as he breathed heavily through flared nostrils.

Beth craved for a free hand so she could fidget with her sleeve, a childhood habit she had never grown out of, and was tempted to do as he demanded. But she took one tentative step into the tent instead. 'I-I,' she hated how her voice shook. Being a good man didn't stop his temper from being any less intimidating. 'My, my daddy told me to bring you your dinner, sir.'

He turned from her and hung his head. 'I don't need none'a'ya food.' His chest continued to heave in shame and anger . 'Jus' leave me alone.'

Beth's fingers flexed around the handles of the tray and she breathed in deeply for comfort. 'No.' Beth argued and she was proud that she sounded so firm. She crept further into his living space and observed the hunter from the corner of her eye. He bared his teeth at his bedding and she could see he was about to hurl abuse to get her to leave, so she quickly reasoned, 'Please sir, you're going to need your strength if you want ta find Sophia.'

Daryl's mouth snapped shut.

His eyes followed her then as she stepped over his ever present crossbow and knelt beside him and lightly placed the tray close to his head. In her peripheral vision she could see the tremor in his arms as he continued to hold his weight up, unable to relax with her in the room. He was no longer glaring, but his eyes were intense and guarded and Beth found she couldn't look at him when he watched her like that.

Profoundly conscious of his heavy gaze, Beth tried to subtly calm her nerves by slowing her accelerated breathing. There was a distinct musky, male scent in the humid air of the tent that she decided she liked.

She picked up a spoon from the tray and placed it in his warm broth when she heard Daryl sneer close beside her. 'I can feed maself, girl. I ain't no handicap.' Beth could feel a steady pounding in her head from the force of her blush. She felt embarrassed that he mistook her readying his meal for her wanting to feed him.

Beth clambered to her feet and made a hasty retreat to the entrance of the tent; she wanted distance between Daryl and herself. He watched her every move.

He truly was a hunter.

She watched as Daryl grunted from the effort it took to pull himself towards his meal one handed, his other hand clamped tightly onto his blanket. He wasn't going to risk her seeing his back again. Beth was ready to flee at this point, but she had a purpose to fulfil.

'What now?' Daryl sighed, exasperated, but he didn't turn his head to her.

Beth's hand found the hem of her sleeve and she ducked her head, shy. 'I-I just... I wanted...'

When Daryl did turn to face her, he seemed to be at his wits end. He huffed, impatient. 'What, girl? What'cha want?'

Beth was agitated with herself. She wanted the redneck to take her next words to heart, but he wouldn't if she couldn't even string a sentence together. She gathered her courage and found the strength to look into his irate eyes as she admitted, 'I know you probably get this a lot from your group, but, well, I... My, my daddy says I should always show my appreciation. So I just wanted to tell you that I think what you're doing for Sophia is... I think it's, well, admirable.'

One arm jerked and give out on him and Beth would have rushed to his side had he not turned, revealing a strong bicep, half a scarred chest and one pale pink nipple. Her cheeks glowed red and she willed her eyes to stay above his collarbone. Daryl did not look the least bit pained, only incredibly bewildered. 'Wha' you on about, girl?'

Beth scrunched up her small nose, utterly frustrated with herself, then stood a little straighter. 'I'm not making myself very clear, am I?' She was resolute in her decision to let Daryl know that she had noticed his efforts and those efforts were admired and respected, even if he was not the most pleasant person to be in the company of. ''It's just, there are a lot of people 'round that wouldn't do what you're doing for Sophia. They most definitely wouldn't almost get themselves killed for her. Wouldn't even think ta go looking for her. A-And I think that Sophia is lucky, 'cos if there's anyone in the world who'd be able ta find her, it would be you. I guess I just want you to know what a good person I think you are. One of the best.'

Daryl's face had softened in his disbelief, his stare hesitant and his body slack. Then he slowly blinked once, twice, then his breath hitched. He stared at Beth for a long moment, as though he had never seen or known a person like her, then his gaze lowered and the very apples of his cheeks flushed.

Beth could hardly believe the hardened hunter was blushing; that her words had made him blush.

There was a beat of silence in the warm tent. When it became apparent that Daryl was not going to respond, Beth stepped back and bounced inelegantly onto the balls of her feet. 'I-I'll just leave you then. I'll be back in an hour to take your dishes for you.'

Beth hoped Daryl understood that she was giving him a time frame so he knew when she would be returning so he could cover himself accordingly before she arrived, but she didn't receive a response. Daryl continued to stare at his bedding.

Beth tugged at a strand of her tangled hair and awkwardly whispered a, 'Goodbye,' then hurried out of the tent.

As the tent flap dropped into place behind her, Beth took a moment to breath in deeply. She had done it. It may not have been as eloquent as Beth had imagined it in her mind, and she wouldn't have minded a reaction from the man, but she had done it.

'Beth? Are you all right?'

Beth nodded at Andrea and gave her a sweet smile.

Yes, she really was all right.

* * *

Precisely one hour later found Beth inside Daryl's tent once more, only Daryl's back was now completely covered by his blanket and he breathed evenly into the crook of his elbow, fast asleep.

Beth was quiet as she crept along the cotton canvas flooring toward Daryl's resting form and almost knocked over his crossbow as she did so. Beth's eyes closed in relief; she had no doubt that Daryl wouldn't hesitate to kill her if she so much as touched his most prized possession. Beth kept her eyes solidly on him as she reached his side and knelt down beside him.

Beth didn't know his age, she was unsure if his own group knew, but she presumed him to be in his early thirties, no older than thirty five. But as she studied his sleep softened features, the lines on his forehead dulled without the frown he constantly wore when awake and his cheek pressed up against his tanned arm, she realised sleep gave him a more harmonious appearance. It made him look years younger. He didn't look thirty. His short, dark strands of hair clung to his sweaty forehead and a black smudge of dirt followed the straight bridge of his nose.

_He's not the least bit intimidating when asleep, _Beth thought and grinned. How disappointed he would be to learn that.

Beth turned from his peaceful features and reached out to pick up the tray, but froze.

Next to Daryl's dirty cutlery there laid a single picked daisy flower.

Beth reached out slowly and gently picked the tiny daisy up by the tips of her thumb and forefinger. Beth studied the simple white petals, the minute but healthy green stem and the sunshine yellow of the stamen and smiled. She twirled the flower between her fingers and it reminded her of simpler days, when she was just a little girl and she still had her mama and she believed making daisy chains for her daddy would make him feel special and cherished.

She looked to Daryl again and wondered who in the world would dare to give Daryl Dixon, the redneck hunter with a deadly crossbow, a flower and think that he would cherish the sediment. The thought almost made her laugh. Beth had heard Andrea could have quite a playful sense of humour when she wasn't so weighed down with her own grief. Or maybe Carl had placed it in here, although she wasn't sure he was quite brave enough. Honestly, she was amazed anyone would be brave enough to give Daryl a flower.

'Don't go lookin' at me like tha'. It's for you, idiot.' Daryl's voice, thick with sleep, startled her from her musings and she was surprised to see one drowsy, half lidded eye staring back at her, his other eye smooshed in the crook of his elbow.

Beth blinked stupidly as his words finally sunk in. 'For me?' She asked, astonished and slightly baffled.

Daryl grunted an affirmative.

Daryl had picked her a flower.

Beth had to give herself time to let things sink in again.

She glanced down at the small daisy in her hand, then smiled.

Beth could admit to herself that she had been a little bit disappointed at Daryl's lack of response to her speech earlier; she had been unsure whether she had pleased him or offended him somehow and that hadn't settled well with her. But now she knew. She was certain he had been pleased. A picked flower was the best response he could have given her. Daryl was a man who couldn't easily express himself with words, so to know he had gone out of his way, that he had risked further injury to his wounds, in order for her to see the magnitude of his gratitude said more than words ever could. The daisy meant more to her than he would ever know.

Beth turned back to him to find him tiredly examining her reaction. 'You really shouldn't'a been outside in your condition.' She admonished. She half expected a sarcastic comment and an insult, but instead he just grunted and raised an eyebrow. The look clearly stated that he didn't care, wasn't going to apologise and wasn't going to listen to her lecture.

Beth huffed, a little irritated by his lack of concern for his own well being, but decided she wasn't going to chastise a grown man over his health. Especially not one as moody as Daryl Dixon. Instead, she felt for the messy braid in her hair and weaved the daisy into the braid. 'There.' Beth declared, beamed at the man bedside her, then spread her arms wide at her sides as though she was showing him a whole new outfit.

Daryl stared at the daisy, then into her eyes, then back at the daisy before he dropped his eyes to his blanket. He shifted slightly, winced, then hummed. Beth wanted to ask if he was in pain but she knew he wouldn't welcome her mothering.

Beth touched the daisy in her hair. 'Thank you, sir.'

Daryl's blue eyes travelled back up to meet her own before he burrowed his head firmly into his elbow and Beth's heart twisted with sudden affection at such a human action. ''S nuthin'.' Daryl grumbled then added, 'And stop callin' me sir. I ain't no sir.'

Beth was quick to nod to placate him. She didn't want grumpy Daryl back just yet. She was enjoying tired Daryl, it made him slightly more mellow and he was less likely to lash out.

He was fighting to keep his eyes open now, though neither of them acknowledged his struggle. Beth instead hoped she was being subtle when she picked up the tray and announced that she was heading back to the house.

Beth retreated to the tent flap and chanced a glance over her shoulder to find Daryl had raised his head after her. One side of his face was reddened with indents from his arm and blanket and his short hair was wild on top of his head. She had to force herself to keep a straight face.

Beth smiled, thanked him again, then called out as she left his tent:

'Goodnight, Daryl.'


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I have a feeling this is going to turn into an epic novel, I have so many different ideas I want to weave into this story. A few chapters will be in Daryl's POV, but most will be in Beth's. Chapters will start to get longer too once the plot really begins. Thanks to everyone who took the time to review, I never expected to get so many positive responses and I can only hope you all enjoy the rest of my fic.

* * *

Good Men

CHAPTER 2

Beth quickly warmed to Rick's group.

She found it curious that a group so diverse in personalities and backgrounds managed to interact and learn to live with each other and survive together so amiably. Most members of the group were friendly and willing to pull their weight to illustrate how thankful they were to finally be somewhere safe. Beth was more than willing for them to stay at the farm permanently. She was beginning to form fragile friendships with Lori, Carl, Carol, maybe even Daryl, and the thought of sending them back out into the ominous world beyond the farm alarmed her.

Her daddy was still undecided on whether to allow the group to stay or to send them on their way. He was convinced they would endanger his family or find out about the barn. He hadn't asked either of his daughters for their opinions on the matter and Beth sensed his reluctance was due to his knowing, deep down, what their answers would be. And so, instead, he continued to urge his daughters to keep their distance from the strangers. But there were rare moments, much more rare for Beth than Maggie who had always been the more rebellious daughter, when Beth was able to slip away from the house and spend some time with the women of Rick's group.

She managed to escape the house again today whilst her daddy fed her infected family and friends in the barn.

Beth wrapped her cotton sweater tight around her shivering body and hunched her thin shoulders to ward off the frigid nip in the early morning air that warned winter was fast approaching. Dew dampened the worn edges of her favourite jeans as she ambled through the field towards Rick's campsite. Beth spotted Lori and Carol a way off, toward the woods, laughing as they hung their wet clothing on the amateurly tied washing line.

Beth hurried when she caught sight of the older women and wouldn't have noticed she had passed Shane on the way had she not caught him alone and shaking. The ex-cop stood with his broad back to her, his strong shoulders bunched together and his limbs tense and trembling. His whole body seemed to vibrate from an abundance of excess energy. Beth was about to call to him, to ask if he was all right, when he raised one unsteady hand and reached for his gun holder. His fingers gripped the handle of his gun and lifted it out of the holder, then his arm settled back by his side. Beth paused, cautious. Something was telling her to run far, far away.

Beth's initial thought was that there was a walker near and the notion caused terror to strike through her entire body and rooted her feet to the ground. But when she followed the direction of Shane's transfixed glower, she found, not a decaying, walking corpse with hunger for live flesh embedded into its very nature, but Rick ruffling his son's hair as a fond smile lightened his features and Carl whining at his fathers actions, playfully pushing Rick away. They were both laughing and carefree. It was a beautiful moment between the pair.

Beth turned back to Shane. It took her a moment, but when Shane drew in a sharp breath and exhaled through clenched teeth, creating a hissing noise that sent shivers down her spin, then lifted his quivering hand and pointed his gun directly at Rick, Beth understood and gasped, horrified.

Shane heard her.

Beth's gasp caused Shane to jerk and whip around to face her. His wide chest heaved erratically and his arm swung around to aim his gun at her gawking face. His eyes were bloodshot and unfocused. Beth stared down the barrel of the gun, unblinking. She was the one trembling now.

Seconds that felt like centuries passed and Beth's fright mounted unsettlingly fast the longer the gun stayed pointed at her.

Then, Beth opened her mouth to scream, to shout for help, to spit in his face, she was unsure. She just felt she had to do something or risk receiving a fatal shot between her eyes. But it didn't matter in the end. Before she could draw breath Shane was in her face and had the scruff of her sweater in his hand and had twisted the fabric until it pressed oppressively against her delicate throat.

It was all done so fast that Beth was still and compliant in Shane's grasp for a time as her mind caught up with the situation. Then it all seemed to crash into her at once and she was suddenly struggling against his iron fist. Shane's hold wasn't suffocating, but she was breathing with some difficulty. The material of her sweater felt rough and burned against the pale skin of her throat the longer she fought him.

'Shh,' Shane soothed and his free hand, now without his gun, was open, his fingers spread wide, and hovered deliberately in her line of vision to try and placate her. 'Shh, shh, quite now, shh, just calm down. I don't wanna have to hurt you Beth, so just shh.'

Beth stopped struggling and became docile. She acknowledged, however reluctantly, that she wasn't physically strong enough to fight him. She knew she would get out of his hold only when he decided to let her go.

'Now,' Shane was right in her face and although his eyes were focused at this point, they were too wide and stared dead into her own. It was unnerving and for the first time she understood why her father was being so cautious. But she couldn't look away from his unwavering stare. 'I know what you saw. And I know what it looks like. But you know I wouldn't do anything, right?' He laughed as though the mere thought was ridiculous, and it sounded fake and forced and Beth didn't dare laugh with him. 'Well?' Shane continued, bringing his face ever closer. 'You believe me Beth, don't you?'

Beth pressed her lips together to smother a whimper and gave a timid nod of her head, the cloth around her neck tightening against the action.

'Cause,' Shane continued, his voice hushed like he was apprehensive of someone overhearing them, and a dim voice in the back of her head divulged that he hadn't blinked since he started rambling. 'Rick; he was my partner, you know. In the old world.' At last, he turned away from her and she felt like she could breathe again even though his fist didn't slacken at all. He stared out to where Rick still stood with his son. 'He's my best friend. He's not dead and he's my best friend.' Beth had to wonder if he was trying to convince her or himself.

Beth's heart jumped as he turned back to her. He swallowed thickly then said, 'Rick doesn't need to hear about this, right? Or anyone, for that matter. 'Specially not your daddy.' He came in close again and her vision was filled with the hazel brown of his eyes. 'You won't tell no one about this Beth. 'Cause you just misread the situation. Nothing was going to happen. Nothing will.'

Beth hadn't revealed to him what the situation looked like to her, yet he seemed so eager for her to believe he hadn't been about to do anything. It only further confirmed her suspicions. If Beth hadn't stopped him, Shane might have pulled the trigger and killed Rick. The thought made her sick. Beth nodded her head to let him know she wouldn't tell anyone, but Shane shook lightly by the scruff and warned, 'I need your word, Beth. We don't need anyone stirring 'round our camp, after all.'

Beth had to force the words passed her lips. 'I-I promise, Shane. There's nothing to tell.' She didn't dare ask him to let her go.

He peered at her then and she wished he wouldn't look at her. She hated the dead look in his eyes, the wild glint that made him look crazed and desperate and unstable. He nodded his head firmly once and opened his mouth; but she would never know what his next words were meant to be.

The bloodthirsty edge of a handmade bolt was suddenly prodding Shane's stubbled cheekbone. Beth's eyes followed the bolt to its locked-in perch on a recognisable crossbow. Even more familiar, dirty hands gripped the weapon so tightly his knuckles were stark white, and she continued up to well defined arms and a sleeveless flannel shirt and finally settled on Daryl's stern face. His lips were pressed into a thin line and his stare was hard, purposeful as he watched Shane react to his threat.

'Let her go,' Daryl warned. His tone was low but the threat in his voice was clear and for good measure he added, 'Now.' He pressed the tip of his arrow against Shane's cheek persuasively.

Shane was breathing heavily again and glared at Daryl from the corner of his eye. They held each others gaze for a long, tense moment, then Shane gently loosened his fist until the material fell away from his hand. Shane took a slow step back and turned to face the taller man. Daryl's crossbow followed Shane's every movement, distrustful.

Once free, Beth scrambled away from him, frantic to put distance between herself and Shane. She edged closer to Daryl without realising she was doing so, just knowing she felt safe beside him. Her hand gently fingered her sore throat and winced whenever she felt small breaks in her skin. She pulled her hand away and found droplets of her blood from where the material of her sweater had cut into her skin. Beth didn't have the remotest idea how she was going to hide the obvious red mark that marred her neck from Maggie and her daddy. She glanced back at the two men in front of her, worried.

Shane emitted a display of numerous, powerful emotions where Daryl was silent and impassive. 'This isn't your business, redneck.' Shane announced and grew restless when Daryl refused to respond. The crossbow stayed trained on him.

Shane gave a bark of laughter and it was undeniably mocking. His thumb swiped under his nose then he crossed his arms against his broad chest. 'The redneck white trash saving a poor, defenceless girl from a cop? Y'can't make this stuff up.' He shook his head, amused.

That got a response from Daryl. He shifted, held his crossbow higher and a muscle in his jaw jumped. 'Jus' leave the girl alone,' Daryl finally spoke, ''N' we won't have no problems. I don' want ta see you 'round her again, you hear?'

'We were just talkin-'

'Didn't look like you was just talking.' Daryl interrupted.

'Well we were.'

'About?'

'That's between me and Beth.' Beth wasn't stupid, she knew that comment was directed at her.

A tense silence followed and throughout the entire exchange Daryl didn't lower his crossbow for a second. Then Shane _tsk_-ed and took another step back. He glanced at Beth for a long moment and she lowered her gaze because she didn't want to look into his eyes ever again. Then he turned and deliberately presented his back to Daryl in an act of defiance and dominance. Daryl's nostrils flared but he didn't react and if Beth had been in a better state of mind she would have felt proud at how well Daryl was controlling his anger; something that was well known to all he had difficulty containing. Shane walked towards the campsite without a backwards glance at the two he left behind.

Beth watched Shane leave and felt absolute relief flood her being as she touched her throbbing neck again. She had been right; he was dangerous. He may not have meant to hurt her, or perhaps he had; either way he had no restraint over his actions any more and that was troubling. Not for her, but for Rick. Beth didn't know Shane's reasons for wanting to hurt his friend, she just knew he wanted to.

'You okay?'

Beth couldn't hear Daryl's enquiry, didn't see him sling his crossbow onto his back, and didn't notice when he looked her over in concern. Her mind was too busy racing and trying to understand what had happened in the last few minutes. Beth contemplated telling her daddy and Rick but immediately dismissed the idea. She refused to risk the group's lives. She would keep this incident to herself. And perhaps, maybe, one day, once her daddy had made the right decision to allow Rick's group to stay at their farm, she would reveal the incident to Rick and allow him to handle it however he wanted. But for now she knew Rick could take care of himself and she refused to see the group outside the farms' gates. Not when there was such a great risk of all of them dying. Even Daryl. Especially Daryl.

'Beth? Beth! You all righ', Beth?' Beth blinked out of her daze at the call of her name and found Daryl closer than she remembered him being. His eyebrows were furrowed with concern and she was surprised to find her hand was clutching her neck.

Beth hadn't realised Daryl knew her name.

Beth's hand fell away from her neck and she was quick to reassure him, 'Yeah. I'm fine, really. Thank you.'

It had been five days since Daryl had given her a daisy in a show of gratitude in his tent. The flower had wilted since then and she hadn't been allowed near his tent since her first and only visit. She had only been allowed to go in the first place because no one else had been available to give the patient his dinner and she had insisted on being helpful. She was surprised how happy she was to see him and would have believed it was due to the recent incident that he had saved her from if she hadn't realised at the same moment that she had missed him.

_How can I miss someone I've only had one conversation with? _It didn't make sense, so she didn't think on it.

Daryl nodded but seemed sceptical. He moved closer, raised one hand and tapped his middle finger lightly under her chin in a silent request for her to tilt her head up. Beth couldn't understand why her heart pounded as she looked up into the grey sky above and so decided she was just uncomfortable having someone so physically close so soon after her encounter with Shane.

Daryl moved in to take a better look at the burn and Beth could feel every exhale he took on her raw, sensitive skin. Her heart pounded louder.

'You're gonna be sore for coupl'a days but at least it won' bruise. Cuts aren't deep neither. I'd still clean 'em, though. We don' need them gettin' infected.' Daryl advised, and all Beth could do was nod. They were still for a moment as Daryl straightened to meet her eyes. This time her heart skipped a beat. Beth was the first one to step away, and she immediately felt more comfortable with her own space. She mumbled out a thank you and shuffled her feet, her gaze on the green ground beneath them. 'What happened, Beth?'

Beth reluctantly looked at him, shy and guarded. She had made her decision. 'Nothing. Shane wasn't lying, we were just talking.'

'Just talkin',' Daryl repeated, incredulous. 'Didn't look like you was jus' talkin'. You were looking mighty uncomfortable, thinkin' 'bout it.' When Beth didn't elaborate, Daryl threw up his arms in frustration and resolved himself to be blunt. 'He had you by your neck, girl. I know what I saw. You gonna tell me that's nuthin'?'

Beth stared at him, defiant. 'It was nothing.' Daryl drew away from her and swiped his arm along his forehead, agitated. 'Please Daryl,' Beth pleaded. She wanted this day to be over with. 'It's done.' Then she had a terrible thought that knocked the breath from her lungs. 'You... You won't tell my daddy, will you?'

Daryl looked at her like she had won the stupid award. 'Won't tell... yeah, girl. O' course I'm gonna tell your daddy. Can't let nuthin' happen to his precious little girl.' She wasn't sure if he was patronising her, but it didn't matter because he was going to tell her daddy and she couldn't let that happen.

He started to turn away and desperation gripped Beth's heart as she burst, 'No Daryl you can't!'

He halted and Beth could only watch the crossbow slung across his back as he sighed and tilted his head to the heavens, as though the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. Daryl turned to her. 'And why's that?' He challenged.

Beth fought not to, but she couldn't stop herself and so reluctantly allowed her hand to clutch the sleeve of her sweater. She twisted and pulled at the material as she gave her answer. 'Because my daddy will make you all leave.' At this, Daryl turned completely towards her and she knew he was taking her seriously now. 'Please Daryl. I want all of you to stay, just as much as Rick. I don't know much about this new world, and even though I'm sure you'd survive well enough on your own, a lot of people in your group wouldn't if they're forced to leave. Please don't make them leave because of me.'

Daryl pinched the bridge of his nose, conflicted. She allowed him his space as he thought it through and her hand once again lifted to her throat. At some point, she knew, the reality of what happened today would truly hit her and she could only imagine the state she would be in then. But that would happen in the privacy of her bedroom. For now, she was thinking clearly and needed Daryl to, as well.

At last, Daryl ran a tired hand along his face, sighed, then nodded. 'Fine,' he conceded. 'But I'mma be watching Shane from here on out and if I see you near him again I'll drag you by your ear to your daddy maself, you hear?'

Beth nodded. 'I do,' she said and wanted to say thank you but didn't because she knew he wouldn't want to be thanked for keeping something so important from her daddy. She felt guilty that she had to put him in such a situation.

Daryl sighed again and placed his hands on his hips, and Beth almost smiled at how alike Rick and Daryl looked in that pose. Daryl asked once more, 'You're definitely all right?' At her reassuring nod, he nodded too and turned to the campsite.

'Daryl?' Beth called before she could stop herself.

Daryl turned his head to her but didn't seem annoyed like she expected. 'Yeah?'

'What's it like?'

Daryl turned to face her completely and gripped the strap of his crossbow with both hands. 'What's what like?'

Beth bit her lip and looked out towards the large gates and wired fencing that helped to keep them all safe. 'Outside.'

Daryl's face was unreadable as he followed her gaze. Beth watched him take in the landscape as his eyes became distant. He finally shrugged, unable to look at her as he mumbled, 'It's... a world no one want ta be 'part of.'

'I know that, but what's it actually like?' She couldn't help but press. Beth wished to know what the world was like; she had been sheltered for so long she couldn't be sure she understood just how bad things had become, but she wanted to learn. 'When all this first started I heard stories on the radio and on tv, but they never gave a lot of information. They just told everyone to run, find sanctuary. What is it like to _live_ out there; to survive?'

Daryl looked at her then tilted his head as he searched for the right words. He shrugged again and mumbled an 'I dunno,' but Beth stepped toward him with such intent that he felt compelled to explain. 'It's a world full'a predators huntin' the prey; only we're the prey and there's a fuckload of predators.' Beth stopped to listen. 'You hav'ta be on constant lookout for walkers. If you let your guard down even slightly, it could be the end o'ya. You hav'ta learn how to survive n' do it real quick. There ain't no room for hesitation, or allowin' yourself to be scared. You hav'ta get used to loosin' people you live and survive with. Sometimes you'll go for days without food and water. At least once a day you'll be fightin' for your life 'gainst these dead... things that used ta be like you and me. But you hav'ta kill 'em.'

Beth's shoulders drooped and she felt ashamed as she admitted, 'If I was out there, I don't think I could kill anything - anyone.'

Daryl grunted and reasoned, 'You either kill or be killed, girl. Those walkers ain't human no more.' Beth swallowed her retort here. Her daddy had told her walkers were just sick, infected and that one day there would be a cure and she believed him. She had to; her mama and brother's lives depended on there being a cure. 'They jus' wanna eat you. It's...' he paused for a moment before looking away from her. 'It's no world for a girl like you.'

Beth looked away from him then. She wanted to be offended but she knew it was the truth. The limited amount of information he had given her confirmed she wasn't built for the new world. It frightened her; made her want to curl up in her bed and pretend the world was as simple as it had always been.

Beth listened as Daryl slowly neared her then felt a warmth on one shoulder. Beth glanced up to find him inches away, and for an instant they shared the same breath, until Daryl gently tilted her shoulder in the direction of her house. 'Go on, Beth.' Daryl urged quietly and she found she couldn't say no to him, so she just sighed and began a slow walk up to her childhood home.

Once she was at the worn, creaking steps that led to an ancient wooden porch, she glanced back at the field and found the place she left Daryl empty. Beth swallowed with difficulty around a large lump in her throat and her eyes filled with warm tears. Beth wrapped the collar of her sweater high on her neck, uncaring that she may look ridiculous. Beth realised then that the old, decaying house in front of her was the only thing keeping her safe and she suddenly didn't feel as confident as she had this morning. That thought filled her with dread.

As she stared out at her daddy's farmland, passed the sturdy gates and over the Georgian hills, Beth Greene was certain of one thing: she would not survive the new world.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks again for all the reviews, I'm blown away by the amount of encouragement this story has received. I really appreciate it and they really help keep me motivated. Thank you.

* * *

Good Men

CHAPTER 3

Beth's world was on fire.

The ancient barn that had been built alongside her childhood home almost a century ago; that had withstood the harshest of weather and had defied the decrepitude of time; that had housed her mama, her brother, her friends for months on end in anticipation of a cure; that had become her symbol for the all the lies told and the lost hope and the realism of the new world: the barn burned down around them all. The angry embers wound themselves around the wooden structure like rapacious serpents and destroyed everything within their path. Noxious smoke coiled up towards the heavens, dark and suffocating. Ash drifted in the air and showered the field like dirty, blackened snow.

Beth was glad to see it burn.

The barn only brought painful, morose memories for Beth now. Shane had ensured that. It may have been Andrea who had driven a scythe into the back of her mama's head, but Shane had opened the doors to the barn. Shane had been the one to force the Greene family to face how misguided they had been in their beliefs about walkers. Her mama and brother had died long before that fateful day. They hadn't been keeping their family and friends alive, they had been keeping flesh-eating corpses strong; one that would have killed her if not for Andrea's bravery.

That revaluation, as well as witnessing the brutal deaths of her mama and brother, had caused such shock for Beth that her body hadn't been able to cope with the stress and had shut down in response. Grief had rendered Beth into a catatonic stupor. After hoping and praying and truly convincing herself that there would one day be a cure, that walkers were just ill and in need of medication, Beth finally understood with painful clarity that her mama and brother would never get better. Shawn would never grow old and her mama would never become a grandmother. They were dead. They had died the moment they had been bitten. Beth would never see them again. In hindsight, she felt foolish for ever believing walkers were sick, like they had a cold or a fever that would go away with the right medication. She knew better now. Walkers were dead and dangerous and wanted to kill. They would kill her. Just like the corpse of her once loving, gentle mama had tried to kill her.

It was during this time, when her body had become still and her sisters pleas were nothing but static noise in the background, that Beth thought about the life that awaited her if walkers ever broke through the farms defences, the life Daryl had described. Beth had pictured how her life might have played out in the old world had it still existed, then tried to imagine her place in the new world. But she couldn't. Daryl had been right when he admitted that the new world was no place for a girl like herself. She was too gentle, too weak. She realised she wouldn't last long. Beth wasn't a survivor.

Beth had hoped seeing her daddy would help ease her confused mind and bring her the answers she craved, just like he always had. Only, Beth had detected the sorrow and confusion in his eyes, the defeat that weighed his shoulders down. It had strengthened her belief that she couldn't survive the current state the world was in. Her daddy was the strongest person she knew. If he struggled to understand this world, Beth stood no chance.

After much thought and internal conflict, Beth had accepted that her only option was suicide.

If there was a heaven, her mama and brother were up there waiting for her. Beth yearned to be with them. She didn't want to have to be constantly fighting for her life and trying to survive. She was too weak for that. She didn't want to live in perpetual fear, she didn't want to have to kill. If Beth were completely honest with herself, she knew she would only be a liability to her family. No; Beth would watch them from heaven and be her family's guardian angel through any hellish trails they may face.

For the very first time Beth had felt that she was taking control of her own life. She wasn't going to die being ripped apart by nightmarish creatures and she would never become a walker and hurt other innocent people. She would die in the safety of her home, surrounded by her remaining family, in the bedroom she was born and grew up in. She would die on her own terms. Beth was no longer afraid to die. Maggie had seen it as suicide; Beth had seen it as a release from the grotesque world that awaited them. Her sister often forgot how different they were. Maggie was strong, a survivor. Beth was frail, unable to look after herself. But Beth had reassured herself that Maggie would one day understand her decision.

Yet, when Andrea had given her the chance to free herself, to be with her mama again, something within Beth, a neglected primal part that was desperate to survive, hadn't allowed herself to give her life up. The instant she had cut into her forearm she had known she hadn't cut deep enough to completely bleed out, but she hadn't been able to press the knife deeper. Beth hadn't understood why at the time. She had been too perturbed and had just wanted her sister to cradle her until everything made sense again. There wasn't much she could recall from the incident, but she remembered in vivid detail the sheer volume of blood that had seeped out of her self-inflicted wound, how her overly sensitised fingertips had felt every droplet of blood drip onto the tiled floor of her bathroom and how the blood had stained her sink crimson. Her blood.

It was only later, as she nestled warmly in Maggie's arms on her bed and listened to her sister breathe calmly in her sleep with new appreciation, that Beth understood. Her mama had loved life. She would take pleasure from the simplest of gestures and saw beauty where others could not. She had been devoted to her family and admired nature and had wished to care for all living creatures. Her mama wouldn't have wanted Beth to simply give up when life became difficult. She would have encouraged her to live, because her mama had always believed in finding joy in even the most dire of circumstances. 'A simple, heartfelt smile could uplift the most melancholy of men,' she would say.

Beth was still realistic, however. She knew, despite how much she may want to live now, that her chances of survival were still minimal. She was unskilled and fragile and had no desire to kill. Beth accepted this. But now Beth was willing to fight for the little time she had left; even if it meant she had to kill. She would appreciate every day she could spend with her daddy and Maggie. And when she did eventually die, and would finally see her mama again, her mama would welcome her baby girl with pride because Beth hadn't given up; she had died fighting for her right to live.

After that day Beth kept the knife she had almost ended her life with close to her at all times. Beth hadn't the slightest inkling of how to use the knife, but she had felt more prepared all the same.

She clutched that same knife now in her trembling hand as she watched, stricken, as a walker appeared from behind a tree and ripped open Patricia's neck, and Beth knew then that she would die today.

At least this time, Beth would die fighting.

Beth turned from Patricia's gurgled cries, her heart heavy with grief, and spotted Maggie waving from the car's passenger window. Maggie screamed her name, her arm outstretched as though she believed she could close the distance between them and pull Beth to the safety of the car. Beth searched frantically for a gap between the sea of decaying bodies that blocked her from reaching the car and her distress mounted when she couldn't find one. There were too many walkers in her way. She looked for Maggie again and she knew her sister had reached the same realisation. Beth smiled but she knew it wasn't reassuring. Maggie called and pleaded with her as Beth turned her back on her only chance of survival.

Beth turned away from the car, away from her home and away from the burning barn and begged to whoever was listening that this wouldn't be the last time she would see her sister.

Beth ran in the direction she determined had the fewest walkers milling around, but she was soon overwhelmed. Walkers came from every direction and suddenly there was one right in front of her, hissing and growling, and before she could think her hand was slamming down on its skull, the knife in her hand tearing through rotting skin and bone and tissue.

Beth paled, her body tensed and she gave a loud, aghast wail. She had killed her first walker.

Beth had little time to come to terms with the blood that now stained her once unblemished hands as the walker became a dead weight and Beth had to hold it up by its neck as she strived to pull her knife out of its skull. She twisted and turned the handle and pulled with all her might, but the knife did not budge. The walkers weight soon became too much for her tired arms so she carelessly dropped the body to the grass beneath her and placed her scuffed boot-clad foot on its chest and readied herself for another attempt to unjam the knife.

'Beth!'

Beth heard Daryl's distinctive southern drawl cry out her name, panicked, from somewhere in the distance moments before two bloodied hands circled her calf and pointed nails pierced through her clothing and skin in a constrictive hold. Beth looked down to find a walker with a missing eye and half a burned face and decapitated legs dragging itself closer to her leg, its jaws wide open, intent on taking a bite out of her calf. Beth barely had time to scream before a bolt had lodge itself into the walker's remaining eye socket. The walker's head rocked backwards from the force of the hit before it collapsed to the ground, unmoving.

Thundering footfalls sped towards her and Beth looked away from the dead walker to find Daryl swiftly rushing to her trembling form. The moment he was close enough, Daryl reached out for her and gripped her shoulders firmly in his large hands. His blue eyes were sharp and focused as they roamed every inch of her ash-covered face before lowering to take in her body. His face was grave, his thin lips set downwards. His short bangs, black and damp from perspiration, clung to his forehead and the sides of his face as he panted harshly. Flaming cinders danced around Daryl and illuminated his rugged features, and for a moment Beth thought the embers gave the pretence of an ethereal glow surrounding him, surrounding them both.

'You been bit, Beth?' Daryl asked, his voice rasping.

His voice made Beth refocus and she shook her head to reassure him.

His fingers flexed on her shoulders and she watched his Adam's apple dip as he swallowed. 'Good.' He sounded grateful.

'My knife,' was the only thing she could think to say. At the confused tilt of his head, Beth turned her head to the walker she had killed. The wooden handle of her knife stuck out of the middle of its forehead. 'I can't get it out.'

'Righ'.' Daryl said, gave her shoulders a firm squeeze, then stepped back and headed towards the dead walker. He placed his foot on the walkers chest, just as she had, then wrapped his fingers around the handle of her knife and pulled. Daryl's biceps tensed from the resistance and the knife only lifted half way before Daryl paused. 'Shit Beth,' he mumbled, then gave her an incredulous look from beneath his bangs, to which she blushed. He bent again and pulled harder and at last the knife became detached. Daryl looked at her again and held out the ensanguined knife for her. Beth reached for it and she didn't miss the nod he gave her, and she somehow knew it meant that he approved of her kill.

Beth clenched the knife in her hand until it hurt, the weight beginning to feel familiar, and she knew, without a single doubt, that Daryl would protect her. She felt sheltered beside him.

Daryl held his hand out to her, palm up. 'Take ma hand.' Daryl encouraged and she placed her hand in his without any hesitation. He pulled her into him as he turned his back to her. He settled her hand onto the stock of his crossbow and pressed against her fingers to ensure she had a good grip. 'Hold on tight. And whatever you do, don' let go.'

'Okay.'

Daryl bent to retrieve the bolt he had shot to save her life, then he was moving and she could do nothing but trail trustingly behind him. He used the bolt to stab at the walkers that came too close and at one point came dangerously close to being bitten himself, but again Beth didn't think, she just acted and she stabbed the walker through the neck. Daryl had no time to thank her, he just continued to move and fight and Beth found it impossible not to be in awe of his swift, effortless movements.

Beth was exhausted and her arm burned from overuse when Daryl finally came to a stop. He turned to her so quickly that she dropped her hand from his crossbow and jumped. Suddenly, Daryl's hands were on each side of her waist and then she was up in the air and he twirled her around and abruptly set her down on the torn leather seating of his motorcycle. Then he was swinging himself on in front of her.

'Grab ma waist,' he ordered once he was settled, so she enclosed her arms around Daryl's waist and pressed herself tight against his crossbow and his back, uncaring how uncomfortable the crossbow felt against her, and closed her eyes on the death and destruction that enveloped them.

The engine roared to life and moments later the wind was whipping at her long hair, and she pressed her eyes tighter together. The events of the night felt surreal to Beth; she just wanted to wake up.

Daryl drove a short distance from the farm, then parked in the middle of a deserted road and killed the engine. He leaned forward and pressed against her arms, so she moved back and relinquished her hold on his waist. He pulled his crossbow from his back and reached around the handlebars and grabbed the chains he had modified on his bike to strap his crossbow securely to the front of his motorcycle.

When Daryl was finished, he leaned back and Beth latched onto him without a second thought.

Adrenaline had caused a comfortable numbness to overcome her back at the farm, it had focused her mind on survival only, but it had weared off the more distance they had put between themselves and the farm. Beth felt like her world was crashing down around her and she was helpless to do anything but watch. Her home was gone, overrun by the dead, and she didn't know where her daddy or Maggie or Jimmy were, or even if they were alive. The ache in her chest inflamed her entire body and reached to the very tips of her fingers and toes. The pain had her curling into the tattered angel wings on Daryl's leather jacket. Warm tears streaked down her dirty cheeks and her chest caved from her grief. She weeped, but felt a beat of affection when she felt Daryl's hand timidly pat her arm that rested against his stomach.

Daryl said nothing and she was grateful for that, because there was nothing he could say that would help.

Instead, he started the engine again. He spoke softly and his voice rumbled against her chest and into her heart. 'There's a town nearby. Closest town ta the farm, so you'll know it. We'll probably find shelter for the night if we head tha' way. Sound good ta you?'

Beth pressed her wet cheek against his sturdy back, the stitching of the angel wings pressing into the side of her face, and she was surprised that Daryl bothered to ask for her opinion. 'Yeah,' she agreed and as she began to take in their surroundings, she realised she knew where they were. 'Actually, I know a home that should be deserted. It was my friend Rachel's, but her family packed up and left when the broadcasts first started. They went to look for sanctuary. We should be safe there.'

Daryl nodded and soon they were gliding through the streets, as imperceptible as shadows as the darkness of the night blanketed them. Beth gave Daryl directions and she found it helped to distract her from her hurt and longing she felt for her family.

It wasn't long before Daryl pulled up in front of a modest two-story house in a small neighbourhood.

'I'm gonna go inside, make sure no walkers' lurking abou' and make sure it's secure enough for the nigh'.' Daryl explained as he got off the motorbike. Beth was much more clumsy getting off and had to stretch her sore muscles. 'You stay out here, watch for any walkers. You see one, you scream for me. As loud as you can, Beth, yeah? Where's your knife?' She lifted her hand to show him her knife. 'Good. Keep it close.'

Beth watched him unbind his crossbow from the motorcycle, load a new bolt, then head towards the front door of Rachel's old house. He banged his fist against the door then whistled loudly. He paused for a moment, glanced back at her, then opened the door and stepped inside, his crossbow raised, ready to defend himself. Beth watched the angel wings disappear from view and instantly felt defenceless again.

Beth prayed for Daryl to come back to her; for her family to come back to her. Beth let out a shaking breath and wrapped her arms around her middle in a miserable attempt to comfort herself. She hoped everyone from Rick's group managed to make it off the farm safely, then remembered just how many walkers had penetrated the farms defences, and felt her heart drop to the pit of her stomach in despair. Beth's thoughts lingered on Lori, on the unborn baby Beth knew grew inside her. She hoped nothing bad had happened to them and that they hadn't been separated from Rick and Carl. Beth closed her eyes at the thought and was met with the vivid, gruesome image of Patricia's death. Beth held herself tighter.

'Jesus, _Beth!_'

At Daryl's frenzied bellow, Beth's gaze lifted from the ground and she screamed at the walker, with its bloodstained teeth and dead eyes, inches from her face. Beth dropped her knife in her fright and could only cringe away as the walker made a grab for her. Then a hand was pulling at the remaining red hair left on the walkers head, and then a knife was slashed cleanly through its forehead. The walker instantly dropped to the floor and in its place stood Daryl, chest heaving and eyes wild with panic.

Daryl's eyes travelled over her as though he couldn't quite believe she was unhurt, then he moved away, kicked the walker he had killed for her and yelled, 'Fuck, Beth!' He swung to face her and ran an anxious hand through his brown hair. 'You tryin'a get yourself killed, huh?' The way he gasped for breath and his hands shook told her how scared he had been to loose her. When she didn't answer, he clenched his hands on the strap of his crossbow and turned from her. His rage was almost physical, the air around him seemed to spark. 'The house is empty. We're stayin' here tanigh'.' Daryl spat, and she flinched from the bite in his tone.

He stalked away from her, back to their temporary house without a backwards glance and she could do nothing but trail dejectedly behind him.

* * *

Beth sat cross-legged on a leather couch in Rachel's old living room, a thick blanket wrapped around her small frame like a cosy cocoon. Beth fidgeted with the picture frame in her hands. It was a recent holiday photo of Rachel in a hotel room, her blonde hair in familiar bunches and her pretty smile lighting her comely features. Beth hadn't known the girl very well. They had always been kind to one another, but their social groups had never merged, so they never had the chance to interact much. Beth hoped the small family was safe.

Beth sighed and placed the picture back on the side table, next to her knife. She supposed she would never know if the family found sanctuary. That made her sad.

Beth heard a frustrated grunt and her eyes travelled to the redneck as he crouched in front of the open log fireplace and attempted to set it alight. Neither of them had matches or a lighter and there was nothing left in the house so Daryl had accepted that he would have to light the fire the old-fashioned way: by rubbing sticks together. Daryl had said little more than two words to her since they had barricaded the living room door with the couch she was sitting on. He had only told her that under no circumstances was she to leave the room. Beth scrutinized the way his shoulders contracted with pained eyes. Beth could understand him being annoyed by her inattention earlier, but he seemed so consumed by his anger that Beth was beginning to assume that he was upset by more than her recent carelessness. She wondered if this was his way of coping with the emotional toll of the nights events, but dismissed the thought when it became obvious his frustration was directed at her.

After just three tries, the logs ignited and the once darkened room became illuminated by a fiery glow. Beth allowed herself a small smile. Daryl was truly built for this world. The smell of burning wood filled the unfamiliar living room like the sweetest incense. Beth had always cherished the warm scent.

Beth's gaze concentrated on the back of Daryl's head as he leaned back on his hands in front of the fire and savoured the warmth the fire provided.

The silence in the room was uncomfortable and deafening between them and Beth sought for a conversation starter. She wanted them to go back to being comfortable with one another and she needed a distraction from the dark thoughts that were close to consuming her.

Daryl shifted and lifted a hand to his side. He huffed, then rubbed at the spot.

'I never got the chance to ask: how's your side healing?'

His hand fell from his side. ''S fine.' His words were clipped and caused a painful tug in her chest.

'Oh. That's good.' Beth replied, but her eyes were downcast. She knew she wouldn't get any more out of him on that topic. She pulled her knees to her chest, wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on the tops of her knees. She suddenly craved for one of Maggie's hugs and the longing for her daddy was fierce and relentless. Beth needed to be reassured that they would find them safe and well. 'Do you think we'll find them-?'

'Wha' the hell do you care if we find them?' Daryl finally burst and threw himself up onto his feet. He paced the small room like a caged lion and placed a hand over his mouth as though to force himself from saying any more, but he soon continued. 'Just 'cause the world decides ta get a'lil' tough on you, you wanna give up,' he snarled and Beth had a feeling they weren't talking about the possibility of finding the others. 'You've lost your daddy; so you just gonna give up again? You gonna go slit your wrist again? Made you feel a whole lot better the first time, righ'?. Evermand the people 'round you, they ain't worth stickin' round for, they ain't worth shit. Or would yah rather let another walker hav'a go at yah, huh?'

Beth's chin trembled as she listened to him, mortified. Daryl thought that she had planned to let that walker eat her. That she had given up again. Beth was angry, then. She refused to allow her one mistake to haunt her, she refused to allow Daryl to assume every unfortunate incident that happened to them in the future would cause her to become suicidal.

'You don't get ta judge me!' Beth cried and then she too was standing. 'I witnessed my mama and brother get _obliterated_, I found out everything my daddy made me believe about walkers was wrong and I watched my daddy leave me and my sister to deal with our grief alone while he got drunk. All in the same day. Every hope, every prayer I made for a cure to finally be discovered so that my family could be whole again was for nothin'.' Beth was crying again and Daryl was silent. He wouldn't look at her. 'Since my mama was bitten I was told she would get better. And now she's dead. I just wanted ta be with my mama.'

The only sound in the room was the crackling of the fire after her outburst. Beth swallowed painfully and pressed the heel of her palms into her eyes in a desperate attempt to stop her tears. She sat back down, wiped at her stinging eyes and cloaked the woollen blanket back around her. 'I'm not suicidal, Daryl if that's what you're worried about. My mama wouldn't want me to give up. I don't want ta die.'

Beth refused to look up when she heard Daryl slowly lumber towards her, but snuck a glance at him from the corner of her eye when he sat down on the floor next to her dangling legs and leaned his back against the front of the couch with a weary sigh.

They sat like that for a long while and watched the glowing embers sway and twirl hypnotically in the fireplace. The silence wasn't comfortable, but there was no more tension between them.

'Sorry 'bout your ma. And your brother.' Daryl broke the silence and Beth felt an odd tenderness touch her heart at the thoughtfulness and sincerity in his voice.

Beth smiled though she found it difficult. 'I'm sorry about Sophia.'

Carol's anguished howl echoed in her head and Beth remembered the look of absolute defeat Daryl had given the little girl that wandered out of the barn as a walker.

Beth shifted slightly to watch as shadows flittered and danced over Daryl's fatigued features and Beth thought it made him look so vulnerable, so exposed, so sad. She wished to embrace him.

'Do you trust me ta take care of yah?'

The question was surprising; the uncertainty in his tone worrying. Beth had never felt such a strong desire to reassure someone like she did for Daryl. 'Of course.' She answered with finality.

'Even after Sophia?' Daryl countered and Beth only just realised that he was fidgeting with one of his bolts, running it over his large hands and stabbing it into the carpeted floor. 'I couldn't protect her, Beth. I looked, and I tried. I really did. I did everythin' I could. But it weren't enough.' Beth hated how defeated he sounded. 'If we don' find the other's, I'll protect you. I will. But we'll find them, I'm sure of it. They'll go ta the highway where we first lost Sophia. But... there's a chance tha' we won'...' Beth had to bite her lip to stop it trembling at the thought of never seeing her daddy or Maggie again. 'You still think I can protect you?'

Beth replied without a moments hesitation. 'I do.' Then she looked at him with soft, affectionate eyes. 'You seem to forget, Daryl, that you're just one man. I know you did all you could and more for Sophia.' Beth said and meant every word. 'And if something were to happen to me while I'm under your protection, I'd know it was unpreventable because you would have done everything you could to protect me.'

Beth said it with such conviction that Daryl looked at her for the first time since her outburst. He peered at her like he had the day she told him what a good person she thought him to be, like she was unreal. He didn't smile but there was a softness in his expression that made her breath hitch and her heart ache with a longing she didn't understand. Beth looked away, because the ache was overwhelming and she had no idea what it was that she was feeling. She only knew that the intensity scared her.

'How's the neck?' Daryl asked abruptly

'Oh, uh, it's fine.' Beth stammered and her fingers automatically traced the pale skin of her neck. 'I had to wear some of my old scarves for the first couple of days to hide the redness but no one thought it was odd since the weather's been pretty cold recently. At least in the mornings. Maggie did ask about the cuts, but I just told her I scratched myself. She seemed to believe me.' Daryl nodded and fingered the sharp point of his bolt. 'I'm sorry what I did hurt you.' And she really was.

Beth watched as Daryl's body tensed in discomfort. He dropped the bolt into his lap, then scowled at the floor and shifted awkwardly. 'I ain't hurt, jus'...' he tried to protest, but when he trailed off, unable to think of anything, Beth leaned down and rested her cheek on the top of his head. Daryl's body tensed further and Beth thought about pulling away, but then Daryl relaxed under her cheek and leaned back carefully into her front. Beth nuzzled into Daryl's short hair and the thought that Daryl might care for her comforted her enough to relax completely against him and make her smile.

'We're going to be okay,' Beth whispered into his soft strands with certainty.

Daryl moved his head back to look up at her, so Beth pulled away to stare down at his contented cobalt eyes. 'Yeah.' He agreed. 'We're gonna find your family.'

'And yours.'

Daryl frowned at that, not crossly, but as though he wasn't sure how to take the term she had used for his group. 'Yeah,' he replied at last. Then he pulled away. 'We need ta get sum sleep. I wan' ta be up n' on the road by sunrise.'

'All right.'

Beth stretched out along the couch and tossed two cushions to Daryl and kept one for herself to use as a pillow. She burrowed under the covers as Daryl sorted a pile of blankets he had found into a comfortable bed on the floor of the living room, right in front of the fire. 'Goodnight, Daryl,' Beth murmured, but it was a long while before Beth was able to get to sleep.

Beth's thoughts raced; of her daddy; of Maggie; of Jimmy; and of Daryl's group. Beth's imaginative mind conjured up dozens of different scenarios, some that made her want to weep with elation and others that made her force back sobs that threatened to break her heart. But then she remembered that she was with Daryl, and that no matter what happened tomorrow, she would not be alone.

It wasn't until the very early hours of the morning that Beth allowed the sounds of Daryl's rustling sheets and gentle breathing to lull her to sleep, and despite the traumatic night and the worry and anxiousness that was sure to greet her in the morning, that night Beth slept knowing she was protected.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry for taking so long to get this chapter out, my parents went on holiday for two weeks and left me to look after four dogs by myself. May as well have left me with four toddlers, that's how much of a handful they are... But anyway, not sure how I feel about this chapter, but at least the next one will have some real action. As always, thank you for the brilliant reviews. It's lovely to know that people look forward to my updates because I really work hard on every chapter. Hope it shows.

* * *

Good Men

CHAPTER 4

There is a brief spell of time between the pitch blackness of night time and the brilliant rays of new morning light where the world is illuminated by an enthralling, resplendent pre-dawn blue; a shade Daryl found he compared to Beth's wide eyes. Nature was still and silent at this time and thus gave the pretence of a tranquil world. The coral blue light seeped hazily between the thin gaps in the large, boarded windows of the foreign living room and lightened Beth's sleep softened features. Her hair was stained teal and draped listlessly over her neck and down her back and over her cushion. The lines of last nights toil had smoothed in her sleep and her lips were parted marginally as she breathed, relaxed. Her breasts rose and fell rhythmically under her blanket. The glow of the blue rays made Beth appear ethereal, untouchable. Beautiful.

Not that Daryl was looking.

He blinked and shifted his stare to the dulled, scratchy cream carpet he had slept on all night, ashamed to have caught himself staring at the girl again, then he sat up on his makeshift bedding. He rubbed his forearm over his tired eyes and yawned hugely. The fire had gone out sometime during the night but the room was still warm, almost uncomfortably so. He crossed his legs, leaned his coarse elbows on his knees and cupped his face in his rough palms. He sat, simply breathing, like that for a time. Then he rubbed at his face vigorously, dropped his hands from his haggard features, and when he sighed, it came from the very depth of his soul. He wasn't ready for the day he and Beth had ahead of them.

At the thought of his young charge, Daryl automatically sought for Beth again, despite already knowing where she was and that she was safe. It had become an irritating habit of his since he caught Shane manhandling her. Daryl could not understand why his heart felt heavy, nor why it was sometimes difficult for him to breathe until he had confirmed exactly where Beth was with his own eyes, until he was certain she was in no immediate danger. But then, Daryl didn't understand the girl, never mind his inappropriate reactions to her since her unexpected admission back in his tent. All he could gather from the enigma that was Beth was that she needed to be protected and that he wanted to be the one to protect her. He had never felt such a want to protect any one person before.

And perhaps his want to protect her wasn't so strange, so wrong as he first believed. Daryl deemed the girl delusional, or at least incredibly naive, but she was the first, the only, person to ever look at him without judgement, to honest-to-God believe he had actual worth. He didn't; he was white trash, only good at being a waste of space. But the young farmer's daughter, with a grin as bright as her smiling eyes, was insistent that a redneck asshole like him had worth.

A good person, she had called him. '_One of the best,'_ Beth's timid compliment resounded in his mind and still managed to make his heart contract and knot and fill with an odd warmth at the sincerity he heard in her sweet voice. And the way she had peered at him, with complete awe and respect and fear and honesty, had made him tremble and blush like a goddamn pussy. No one had ever looked at him in such a way; like she was convinced he could move the earth and stars with his sordid hands and shined the sun and moon every day and night, only for her. And for one ridiculous, inane moment he had believed he could, too.

So no, Daryl determined it couldn't be strange, or wrong of him to develop a small fondness for the young girl, for the one person that saw more than a bitter, angry redneck when she looked at him. Though, he fuck if he knew what she actually saw because a bitter, angry redneck was all he was. Yet, Daryl found he couldn't just scoff at her idolized version of himself. He didn't get it, but he knew he wanted the girl to continue believing he was a better person than he truly was, because she was the only person who would ever believe he could be.

It was for that reason that Daryl had chosen not to simply ignore the girl and continue to rest and heal, but drag his sore and battered body along the thin flooring of his tent and out through the entrance and, arms quaking, had grazed a hand along fine blades of grass and picked the first fully-bloomed daisy he could find before he crawled, exhausted and aching, back inside. He would never admit just how overwrought he had been to observe her reaction to his rather unorthodox approach to convey his gratitude. He had always been shit at communication, even more so when it involved communicating with the opposite sex. But Beth had understood. She knew so little about him, yet she had understood.

'Aw hell...' Daryl groaned quietly and bit the nail of his thumb. Merle would disown his ass if he ever heard him talking such touchy feely shit. Not before giving him a good beating, though. But he couldn't help it, Daryl wanted to keep Beth's good opinion.

'C'mon, Dixon,' Daryl prompted with finality and resolved to stop thinking and focus on finding Beth's family and his group. Daryl pulled himself up onto his feet and kicked his blankets away. He stretched, then swiped a lazy hand down his chest to rest on his stomach and felt the deep creases and flecks of dried blood and a thin, chalky layer of soot that coated and stained his tattered shirt. His stomach was empty but he knew there was nothing edible in the house. They would just have to raid a couple of cars when they got to the highway and hope to find food.

He gave a childish but reassuring pat on his famished stomach. Then he turned to Beth again with reluctant intent to wake her.

He tread carefully over to her resting form and for a moment simply watched Beth breathe in her sleep. There was a light, churning feeling in his gut and he felt uncomfortable and dirty when he speculated that Beth may be one of the prettiest girls he had ever seen. Most of the girls he had grown up with had been average at best and Merle's bitches weren't even worth remembering. He had never been so close to such a beautiful girl before; a pretty girl had never wanted him to be so close before. Even her older sister, whilst just as beautiful, didn't possess that certain quality her little sister had, that approachable demeanour that made Beth all the more appealing.

In sleep Beth looked at peace, her body rejuvenating the mind and muscles before the onset of the day's turmoil. Daryl felt regret that he had to wake her and make her face her reality. He could only imagine the state she would be in if they didn't find her family today.

It was with much repentance that Daryl bent down next to her and murmured, 'Hey Beth.' She stirred and turned her face from him in defiance. 'C'mon, girl. Wake up.' He coxed and wanted to sound gentle but knew his voice was too gruff.

'Daryl?' Her voice was sluggish and her eyes red-rimmed. She must have had trouble getting to sleep last night. He didn't blame her; so had he.

'Yeah, 's jus' me.' He reassured her despite noticing her bleary eyes were trained on him.

Beth laggardly blinked once, twice, up at him then begun a slow inspection of their surroundings in order to assimilate their situation. It took her a moment to remember, but when she glanced back at him, her lips were set in a hardened line and her blue eyes were dull and irresolute and worn. She shut her eyes and whispered to herself, 'We're gonna be okay.' She repeated the same words she had uttered to him last night, only now her voice quaked and divulged the uncertainty she hadn't felt last night, but that now gripped at her conflicted heart in the new light of day. All Daryl could offer was a jerked nod as comfort. He was unsure what would happen today, but what he did know to be absolute was that he would protect her every step of the way.

'C'mon, get up. Move your ass. I wanna get you back to your family. Get yah of ma back already.'

It was small, but Beth smiled.

* * *

Never in his life had Daryl ever felt such an earth-shattering bolt of pure relief strike his fluttering heart. It made him choke and loose his breath and want to whoop and stick his middle finger up at the Almighty bastard in the sky. And the relief he felt wasn't just for Beth either, though he took immense pleasure from the sight of Hershel and Maggie, unharmed, in the distance, but he felt relief from the assurance that his group had made it: they were alive. And in was then, with a startling jolt, that Daryl realised that he would have missed them had the outcome been different.

Daryl placed his hand on one of the pale arms that embraced him and lightly squeezed to get her attention. He hollered over the resonant revving of his brothers Triumph chopper, 'Beth! You gotta see this.' Her head had been buried between his shoulder blades since the highway had come into sight and he felt her press her forehead harder into his leather jacket at the sound of her name. But he was persistent. 'Beth. Look.'

Beth's arms contracted around his strong frame and she pressed her body completely against his back and caused his fluttering heart heart to stop completely for more than a beat. He felt her expel a heavy sigh against his neck and he clenched his jaw against the shiver that ran down his spine. Beth lifted her head and peered over his shoulder to the small forms in the distance. He heard her gasp once she found her daddy and Maggie, then she whimpered from relief next to his ear. 'Daryl... Daryl, they're...' She couldn't finish.

Daryl weaved through the abandoned cars as fast as he dared as the group turned to the familiar rumble of his engine.

'Oh my God, Beth!'

Daryl mused over just how hysterical Maggie became at the sight of her little sister. Maggie was racing towards them before Daryl had come to a complete stop and by the time he parked and killed the engine Maggie was in front of them and hurled herself at them. In her eagerness to be close to her sister, Maggie threw her arms around Beth and Daryl somehow got caught in the tight embrace. He immediately squirmed, uncomfortable. 'You realise I'm caught in this?' He grumbled and scowled at the tanned, unfamiliar arm wrapped around his neck.

To his utter relief, Maggie drew away, eyes welled with tears, but she couldn't stop grinning. 'Sorry Daryl,' she sniffed out, sheepish. Beth clambered off the motorcycle behind him and stepped into her sisters awaiting arms. Daryl felt oddly cold without the girl's body warmth pressed against his back, but he soon forgot his discomfort when Beth turned her head to face him, tears streaking her cheeks, and smiled widely at him, and it reminded him of the smile she had given him after she had placed his daisy in her hair.

'Maggie,' Beth croaked. Her voice broke and her cheeks were flushed with tears.

Then Hershel was beside the sisters and he didn't hesitate to gather his children into his strong embrace. He rested his chin on Maggie's head as he gently stroked Beth's hair in comfort. Daryl watched the small family, satisfied to see Beth with her family once more but uncomfortable with the open display of affection. Hershel bent to kiss the crown of Beth's golden hair, and then he turned to Daryl with such a look of gratitude etched upon his ashen face that Daryl felt the urge to squirm again. The older man placed his hands on Daryl's shoulders and Daryl tensed in reflex. Despite his respect for the man, it was instinctive for Daryl to become defensive at the touch of an older man. Hershel's aged eyes bore into his own and a spike of fear bolted throughout his body at the respect he saw in the man's eyes. His youngest daughter looked at him the same way. 'Thank you, son,' was all he uttered but the emotion behind his words expressed to Daryl just how much he appreciated Daryl looking out for his youngest.

Daryl could only nod, eyes downcast, and wonder if anyone had ever called him son. The farmer seemed to understand his bashfulness because he simply smiled and patted his shoulders before he pulled away to return to his daughters. Daryl, usually exceedingly observant, scarcely noticed Rick until he was standing next to his bike. The ex-cop said nothing, but the small quirk of his lips and the once over he gave Daryl to check for any wounds told Daryl that Rick was relieved to see him alive. Then there was a hand between his shoulder blades where Beth had rested her head earlier, and he turned to snap at the person because he was sick of everyone touching him, but instead met familiar eyes, worn and haunted by the death of her little girl. 'I'm glad to see you,' Carol said and Daryl knew she meant it.

'You ain't been hurt?' Daryl asked. He had started feeling partially responsible for Carol's welfare since Sophia's death. The way he saw it, he couldn't save the little girl, so the least he could do was make sure her mother was kept safe.

Carol shook her head in reassurance and he opened his mouth to say more, only at the same moment he heard Beth's innocent inquiry: 'Daddy, where's Jimmy?'

Daryl turned to the reunited family and he could tell from Hershel's sympathetic brush of her hair and Maggie's heartfelt, 'Beth...' that the kid hadn't made it. As Maggie begun to explain, Daryl had to look away because the thought of Beth's pain caused an uncomfortable pressure deep in his stomach and had him on edge.

Daryl bit the inside of his lip and put all his concentration into examining what was left of his group because he was desperate for a distraction from Beth's quite sobs. He noted that Shane was missing and then puzzled at Rick's tense and twitching form. The reasons were interlinked, he was positive. Andrea was gone, too. He honestly felt no loss for either. He had disliked Shane even before the episode with Beth and his sense of comradeship had all but faded for Andrea after she grazed his head with a bullet.

'So what's the plan?' T-Dog asked after a lengthy silence and Daryl found it difficult to look at him as he leaned against the car they had used to write Sophia's message on.

Rick rubbed at his chin in thought then crossed his arms against his chest. Daryl observed that Rick seemed to have aged a lifetime since he last saw him. When Rick answered, he sounded debilitated. 'We're low on fuel and we left the siphon back at the farm, so we won't be able to take gas from any of the abandons cars around here. We'll just have to use what's left of the gas to find shelter for the night.'

Glenn agreed. 'Sounds good to me. Me and Maggie searched a couple of cars and found food and water that should last us the next two days if we ration carefully.'

'Good. Load up the cars, then we'll head out.' Rick ordered.

Daryl felt Carol move away from him as he watched Hershel and Maggie lead Beth to one of the cars, and it was only as she begun to climb into the back seat that he realised he had been waiting for her to leave her family and climb on the back of his motorbike. Daryl turned away and frowned down at his handlebars. He had always hated having to ride with someone in the bitch seat. He gritted his teeth, annoyed with himself, and started the engine with more force than was necessary. He waited for the car that carried Beth inside to pass him before taking off behind them.

It took them most of the day to find suitable shelter. That night they slept out in the open, under a crumbling bridge that had once stood over a small stream, which had since dried up. That night, Rick revealed the truth about Shane's death to his incredulous group, then went on to disclose what Jenner had admitted to him at the CDC: that everyone was already infected with the virus and would turn into walkers once they died. Rick declared himself as their only leader, and that he would find them a home that would protect them.

That night the camp was quite, sombre, and Daryl wondered if Rick was lost to them.

* * *

'Like this?'

'That's it, Beth.'

Carol smiled down at the younger girl as Beth readjusted her grip on the piece of flint in her hand. 'You almost had it last time. Try again.' Beth bent to the bed of kindling Carol had shown her how to build out of dry grass and small twigs. Beth held her flint and her knife close to the bed. She then scraped the blunt side of her knife down the sharp side of her flint, vibrant orange sparks soaring from the collision, but the sparks didn't catch. She swiped at the flint two more times when a spark caught on the kindling and lit up the bed. Beth pulled away from the flame and gasped in delight. 'Quick Beth.' Carol ordered though her laughter and handed Beth a couple of dry sticks to add to the small flame.

'I made fire!' Beth exclaimed and laughed with Carol. Carl hid a smile behind his father's hat from where he sat at the opposite side of the miniature flame. 'Thank you both for teaching me,' Beth said then added bashfully, 'Though it really shouldn't have taken so long.'

Carl shrugged his small shoulders and placated her with a shy smile. 'You did good, Beth.'

Carol craned her neck over Beth's head and squinted, then she grinned. 'Looks like the men are back.'

Anxious, Beth swivelled around and caught sight of Daryl expertly manoeuvring his way down the steep slope towards their campsite. The tight clamp around her heart eased once she determined he was unhurt. Glenn and T-Dog were scrambling down the slope close behind him. Beth grinned when she caught sight of the large canisters the three men carried with them. 'We're back!' Glenn announced rather unnecessarily, a proud grin plastered on his face.

The camp cheered and clapped for them, their morale boosted slightly after the distressing admissions of last night. Rick stepped forward with a pleased grin. 'Went well, I take it?' Rick asked and smirked.

Glenn grinned back, wrapped up in Maggie's arms, and exclaimed, 'Hell yeah. We found a town less than a mile away. There was this old garage that had a couple of siphons and empty canisters so we took gas from nearby cars and filled the canisters up. Got enough fuel to last us weeks.'

'Found sum tools that migh' come in useful too.' Daryl chimed in and held up a small toolbox in his other hand.

'That ain't even the best part, man,' T-Dog huffed out and dropped his canister with a loud grunt. 'When we were heading back we saw a big ol' library in the town centre. Looks pretty secure, though we didn't get a chance to take a look inside.'

Rick slapped Daryl on the shoulder and gave the three men an appreciative look. 'Well done guys. You all might've found our new home.' Rick turned to T-Dog's abandoned canister and hefted it over his shoulder. With his voice slightly strained, he suggested, 'Let's get the cars filled up and take a drive into town.' Then he begun to trudge over to the nearest car.

Beth watched Daryl throw the toolbox near his motorbike and wandered over to him. 'Any trouble?' Beth inquired because she needed to hear from Daryl that he was unhurt. She didn't understand why, but nevertheless she found it reassuring to ask him.

Daryl shifted the heavy canister under his arm. 'Nah,' he denied. 'Weren't nuthin' excitin'. Only saw a'couple a' walkers. Easy enough ta take out.'

Beth sighed, relieved and raised her hand to tug at her sleeve. 'Good. We were worried about you. All of you, that is.' Beth stuttered.

Daryl snorted and smirked and Beth couldn't help but noticed the small smudge of dirt under his right eye. 'Ain't no need ta be worried. We're big, strong men. 'N we took good care of Glenn.'

Beth couldn't stop her grin. 'Course, course.' She agreed.

'Hurry up, man,' T-Dog called out to Daryl and Daryl, with a strained grunt and a roll of his eyes, headed towards the group of men that surrounded one of their cars.

The sky had begun to darken and ominous clouds had formed by the time the men were finished and the campsite had been packed away. They only drove a short distance before a small town loomed into sight. The towns streets were deserted and cars were left in the road and homes were completely abandoned. Beth peered out of the window and found Daryl's winged back as he drove out in front and gave directions to the cars behind him. Daryl took a sudden sharp turn and there was no mistaking that the building that appeared in front of them was the towns library. They parked outside and Beth took in the impressive building.

T-Dog hadn't lied; the building truly was big. Its walls were made entirely of red bricks and had a polished granite base. Large windows took up most of the entrance wall and a flawlessly carved wooden door stood tall as the entrance to the library. Two thick, white stone pillars held up a domed roof. Dozens of marble steps led up to the great entrance doors. A broad, golden trimmed plaque decorated the top of the door and its inscription read: BRIDGE GATE PUBLIC LIBRARY.

Rick reached for his knife and ordered, 'Stay back.' The group knew without the need for an explanation that his order was directed at the weaker people in the group. And so, Beth, Lori, Carol, Hershel and Carl brought up the rear of the group, Carl more reluctantly than the others. Beth inhaled deeply to calm herself as Rick and Daryl crept up the steps and carefully stalked towards the entrance. Daryl raised his crossbow as Rick reached out for the antique, floral carved door knob. Beth watched in anticipation as Rick glanced at Daryl, who nodded, then with a flourish threw the heavy door open.

Beth gripped her knife as the door banged against the wall. They waited, then Daryl let out a high-pitched whistle.

There was another tense pause before Rick gestured for Daryl to head inside, then followed him in. The group slowly followed.

Beth gaped at the size of the library. The musky scent of old books was poignant in the air and the natural light from the large windows exposed the suspended dust particles caught in the beam. Rows and rows of crooked bookcases lined the large walls and the shelves were cramped and cluttered with books. Tables and seating areas and computers were scattered between the rows. In the centre of the room a winding staircase led to a spacious upper hallway and to an elegant oak door. The groups footfalls reverberated along the cold marble flooring and resounded throughout the spacious room.

'Clear,' she heard Daryl's voice echo somewhere behind her.

Beth went to step towards one of the many bookcases when a hand gripped her arm. She squeaked and spun, her knife ready, and found Daryl beside her. He pulled her close and warned, 'Hey. Don't go wanderin'. We don' know if its safe yet. I don' want you more than an arms length away from me, got tha'?'

'Okay.' Beth placated and he let her go, satisfied.

'Daryl.' Rick called and Daryl, with one last glance at Beth, trekked over to Rick's side.

Rick and Daryl's voices resounded quietly throughout the room, their murmuring resembling a comforting hum as they discussed the pros and cons of making a home in the library. Beth paid them no mind as she brushed her fingers over the spins of the books, over the dusty tables and inoperative computers. She came to a stop in front of the winding staircase and placed a hand on the golden brass railing that led up to the upper floor. Beth climbed up the stairs and once on the upper level she made for the oak door. Beth was eager to find more bookcases filled with books behind the door. She had always enjoyed reading a good book and could see herself liking living in the library, protected.

Excited, she pulled at the door knob. But the door was heavy and caught on the marble floor. She began to wrench the door open and with each strong tug the door inched open a fraction more. Then with a particularly forceful yank, the door finally flew open and she stumbled to the side from the force.

As Beth rightened herself, a hideous growl broke through the stillness of the air. With trepidation, Beth turned to the opened door as the first walker stumbled out through the door and collapsed, then another and another and another appeared and suddenly dozens were spilling out of the door.

All Beth could think to do was scream and scream and scream as she watched the never ending flood of walkers emerge and realised her group was severely outnumbered.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: This was a long, hard chapter...

* * *

Good Men

CHAPTER 5

Her scream was acute, shrill and wild and pierced his stunned heart and weakened his knees. For an instant, an all-consuming dread anchored Daryl's feet to the ground beneath him, his body rigid and tense and immovable. He shared a disconcerted glance with Rick and caught the alarm in the other man's eyes. The pungent stench of decay was sudden and severe in the dusty air and was soon followed by the unmistakable low, growling moans of the undead. His breath caught and his chest caved. 'Beth.' Daryl breathed, his voice weak with trepidation. The taste of her name on his lips awoke his unresponsive body and he was quick to take action.

Daryl swerved to face the threat and encountered an enormous herd of walkers lumbering down the winding staircase towards his vulnerable group. Daryl's eyes were sharp, focused, calculating and capable. His eyes absorbed the tumultuous sight and deduced their chances of survival in a matter of seconds. The walkers' advancement was quite slow and gradual, which indicated that they hadn't eaten in some time, and many collapsed on the stairwell in their haste, thus were trampled on by the rest of the herd. Some were so desperately eager for fresh meat that they threw themselves off the higher floor, only to break vital bones on impact with the ground. If his group were quick, Daryl believed they would all be able to make it to the entrance door before the walkers caught up to them. They might even have time to barricade the door.

Dimly, he heard Rick curse behind him as Daryl began a rapid search for Beth's long golden tresses. A heavy, awful weight pressed against his thundering heart when he failed to find her. Then Rick was by his side and he shouted, 'Get everyone out!' Rick didn't give Daryl any time to respond as he immediately raced over to Lori and his child.

Daryl lifted his fingers to his mouth and blew. His whistle rang out over the ceaseless hisses and moans and resounded throughout the entire room. All eyes turned to him, living and dead. The pressure on his heart became almost unbearable as he realised he couldn't locate the girl's blue eyes. 'Outside!' He managed to shout over his building fear. The group reacted to his order instantly and started towards the entrance door. He couldn't find Beth's small frame among them. In desperation, he turned in a full circle and his eyes scanned every inch of the large room. He was ready to bellow her name like a crazed man, to remain in the building and take down every walker until he found her, when his keen eyes caught a flash of golden-blonde from above.

Beth was on the upper level, amidst the endless walkers that continued to emerge from behind the oak door, and Daryl's heart constricted knowing she was so close to danger. Mere inches away from Beth, a tall walker stood, its rotted hands reaching for her frozen form and its jaw agape in hunger. And Daryl was left paralysed in horror as it registered that he wouldn't be able to fire a bolt in time to save her.

Then, as though waking from a deep trance, Beth's whole body jerked into action and she evaded the walkers hold, then twisted on the spot and sprinted down the hallway and out of Daryl's sight.

'No!' Daryl barked after her. Three walkers split from the herd and they, along with the tall walker, started after her. 'Shit.'

It took him exactly three seconds that he didn't have to spare to analyse his surroundings and find the quickest route to her. The staircase was impracticable, he would never make it through the herd on his own, and he couldn't find another means that led to the upper hallway. There was only one route he determined would get him to Beth.

Daryl swung the stock of his crossbow and landed a fatal blow on a walker that dared to come too close, then he threw his crossbow over his shoulder and adjusted the frayed strap to secure his weapon tightly to his back. He removed his knife from his boot and clenched the blade firmly between his teeth. He allowed himself a moment to inhale deeply, to cleanse and focus and calm his thoughts, then he sprinted across the large room. His pace was unrelenting and Daryl found the burning in his overworked muscles, a sensation he had grown accustomed to in the last few months, was almost solacing. Daryl quickly neared the opposite wall, then, when he was close enough, threw his right foot against the wall. He used the momentum in his leg to push upwards. In mid-air, he reached up and seized the base of the upstairs railing in both hands.

For a moment, Daryl's feet scrambled for a purchase on the wall. Then he used all his strength to lift himself up higher on the railing, his biceps protuberant and strained from the effort. He paused for a moment, then bared his teeth around the hard steel in his mouth and lifted himself up again. He latched onto the rail cap, hoisted his heavy body once more and planted his feet on the floor in between the small gaps in the railing. Daryl leaned his tired arms on the railing cap and panted harshly from the exertion, and almost missed the walker that advanced on him. He recoiled from the walker, his grip on the railing strong, knowing a fatal drop awaited beneath him. His hand grasped the handle of his knife and removed the knife from his mouth, then he slashed the walkers throat open. Daryl dodged the slumping body and watched it fall over the railing and drop to the ground. Its skull split open on impact with the hard marble floor.

Cautious, Daryl glanced toward the herd and was relieved to find the other walkers hadn't noticed him yet. They were much too engrossed with the rest of his group.

Daryl didn't waste any more time; he hefted himself over the railing and, without pause, started off down the hallway after Beth.

* * *

Beth wanted Daryl.

It wasn't her overprotective father, or her courageous older sister, or her altruistic leader that she longed to have beside her, in this moment, to protect her. Out of everyone in her group, it was only Daryl—unquestionably Daryl—that Beth trusted unconditionally to keep her safe, keep her alive. And she wanted him there with her; beside her; protecting her. Now.

Beth's heartbeat was rapid and thundered in her eardrums and dulled the hideous growls that emanated from the walkers that steadily gained on her. Her feet pounded against the floor in her haste and she risked a glance over her shoulder. Momentarily, the walkers were still a safe distance away.

She turned back and a relieved sob tore from her throat as a door to her right appeared into view. Beth darted to the door and latched onto the doorknob and turned. 'No no no,' Beth fretted, her tone an octave higher in her desperation, and turned the doorknob again. 'Open!' She demanded, despondent but unwilling to give up, then threw her entire body weight against the door. She shouldered the door, then kicked it, but the door did not yield. She sent a fleeting look behind her and gave a frightened whimper. The walkers were too close. She had to move on. With mounting despair, Beth reluctantly abandoned the door and continued down the hallway.

Her knife was cold in her palm and her lungs burned greedily with the need for more oxygen, but Beth pushed herself onwards.

Then she saw it.

A fire escape.

With renewed resilience, Beth careered to the end of the hallway, her legs pumping as fast as they could towards her beckon of hope. She stretched both of her arms out, impatient and urgent and excited in her need to wrap her fingers around the thick bar that would open out onto the fire escape; that would open out to freedom. And when her fingers finally—_finally!_— brushed the cool metal, Beth convinced herself that she could make it, that she could survive this ordeal on her own. Beth pushed her weight down on the handlebar and into the doors. However, her body rebounded off the sealed doors and she stumbled a few feet away, incredulous.

'No.' Beth pleaded and her voice faltered and a painful lump grew in the back of her throat. She couldn't give up, she refused to give up. This was her only chance to escape; she had to escape. _I have to escape._

Beth could hear the unnatural moans of the undead grow louder and louder in their relentless pursuit for her and became frantic. She shouldered the door and a sharp pain spiked down her arm and to the tips of her fingers, but she decided a little discomfort was worth it when the doors caved outwards slightly and she caught a glimpse of rain and pavement and an open steel grating.

Beth thrust her shoulder against the doors again and disregarded the pain in her arm as once again the doors bowed against the force of her shove and revealed a peek of the outside world, before the doors stubbornly slammed back into place.

She knew she had little time left. Yet, it was only when Beth chanced another glance behind her and her breath was knocked completely from her lungs by the sheer panic that swelled in her stomach, that she realised she was almost out of time. The walkers were just feet away from her.

With utter urgency, Beth turned and hurled herself against the doors again and again and again. The doors bounced open and closed with each hit they received. Then, with a great loud _crack _the doors gave way and burst open and Beth stumbled out onto the steel platform and staggered into a supporting rail and almost tumbled right over the edge. Beth's entire body quaked with adrenaline and fear and she gave a startled yelp when she found, on the ground beneath the fire escape, a small horde of walkers had formed, their arms reaching upwards and their teeth snapping at her.

Beth recoiled from the rail, her long hair already plastered to her face and her neck and back from the pounding rain, then she turned and shrieked in the face of a walker that bore down on her. Her arm struck out in reflex and her blade sliced cleanly down its face. With a gurgled snarl, the walker dropped to her feet and revealed another three walkers that were quickly closing in on her.

The only direction Beth could go was down, so she clambered down the fire escape. But the rainwater had turned the steel staircase into a slippery, unsafe surface and inevitably, Beth slipped on one of the wet steps and fell. Her knife dropped from her loosened grip and clanged down the steps and onto the ground below. She knocked her head and grazed her knees and slammed the small of her back into the edge of a step as she tumbled, and she threw her hands in the air in a desperate attempt to grasp something, anything, that would bring her body to a halt. Her hands grazed steel and she scrambled to secure a strong hold on the supporting rail. Her body jerked to a stop, her hands clasped tight around the sturdy rail, and her head and shoulders hung off the side of the staircase.

Beth, her body sore and awkward as she laid against the steps, scarcely had time to blink away the raindrops in her eyes before a walker had her arm in a strong hold. Beth gasped and her hand automatically sought for her knife until, her heart plummeting to the pit of her stomach, she remembered she had let it go. Unable to think of anything else, her hands reached up and squeezed the walkers throat. Her arms trembled and tensed from the effort it took to keep the walker away.

Then another walker came into view and Beth despaired as it too advanced on her. Beth released one hand and pressed it against the second walkers chest to keep it at bay. Her arms quavered strongly and were close to buckling, and Beth gritted her teeth when she noticed a third walker target her.

Beth thought quickly, then braced the second walker as she grunted from exertion. Once the third walker was close enough, she threw the back of the walkers head into the face of the third walker, and the third walker hissed and fell to the side, out of her view.

The second walker snapped its teeth, as though it was angry at her, and Beth panted and moved her face to the side and deliriously sought for a way out of this mess. Beth huffed and her arms began to weaken under the walkers' persistent movements.

Then swiftly, one of the walkers was ripped from her hold and out of sight just as the other gave a partially forceful push, and her arm would have buckled had her other arm not been freed in time. Her other hand pressed against the walkers face and her nails dug deeply into its blistered skin. Beth growled, vocalising her effort and pain, and just as her arms were ready to give in, the final walker was also taken. Beth's arms fell to her sides, shaking and weightless.

Beth's chest heaved violently as she fought for breath, and then Daryl's dripping face was above her, his brilliant blue eyes troubled as he visually inspected her for any injuries. The way his frown darkened his striking features and his eyes crinkled told her he was unhappy with what he had found and she would have laughed if she was not so close to crying because, really, of course it was Daryl who saved her. _Of course._ It was always Daryl. It would always be Daryl.

'Beth!' It wasn't until her face was cradled between his calloused hands that she noticed Daryl had been calling her name.

Beth swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. She managed to croak out his name. 'Daryl...'

His fingers curled against her cold skin in reaction to his name and she smiled.

Beth lifted a shaking hand in a silent request for him to help her up, and as Daryl clasped her offered hand, a blinding pain erupted in her head and she saw stars. Beth wailed in agony and a rough tug at her hair had half her body suddenly dangling over the side of the staircase and she could see the walkers below and she saw through a thick haze of pain that a walker had a tight hold of her hair. She felt Daryl lunge for her waist and pull, determined to save her, and the pain was so tremendous that she had to resort to begging Daryl to stop, to trust her and to just please stop. Her hands moved to grip her hair at the base of her head, an endeavour Beth hoped would alleviate some of the pain.

The walker continued to wrench at her hair and she tried to pull her hair from its grasp, but it was impossible.

'Daryl!' Beth rasped, her throat raw from overuse. She held out one hand in his direction. 'Daryl, give me your knife.' She pleaded.

Beth felt the heavy weight of Daryl's knife as he placed the handle in her palm, his other hand firm and steady on her waist, and she curled her fingers tightly around the handle. Another torturous tug at her hair had her breathless and she only paused for a split second before she brought the knife to her long tresses. She swallowed, then began to cut and hack at her hair. It took a couple of attempts as her hair had always been thick and healthy, but finally she was freed and the pain eased. Beth abruptly shot up and Daryl's kneeling form was there, ready to catch her.

His strong arms enclosed around her waist, warm and comforting even in the pouring rain, and she clutched greedily at his arms. Her fingers clenched and scraped at his sleeves and it took Daryl having to brush what remained of her hair out of her face and cradling the back of her aching head firmly and cooing gentle words to her for her to finally calm. 'I've got yah, darlin',' he repeated over and over and it sounded like a promise. 'I've got yah.'

Her hands glided up his soaked shirt, over his strong shoulders and clung to his back. 'Daryl,' she whimpered as her head thumped in agony

'I know, darlin',' he hushed her. 'I know. I've got yah now, you're safe.'

Beth pressed her face into the crook of his neck and the cooling rain against his skin and his sweet, musky scent calmed her further. Daryl allowed her a moment to simply breathe as he continued to cradle her head to his body. Then he pulled away, his expression like stone. 'We can't stay here, Beth. We've gotta go, darlin'.'

Beth pursed her lips, nodded, then handed his knife back to him.

Daryl stood up and Beth followed, her legs weak and her body bruised and stiff and she almost fell again, but Daryl was there to catch her. 'Atta girl.' Daryl encouraged.

Beth was panting by the time she was standing without trouble on her own. She rolled her shoulders back and fought not to wince at the pain in her shoulder. Beth grasped onto his crossbow before Daryl even had to ask her to do so and she stared up at him with absolute trust, prepared to do whatever he ordered.

Daryl gazed at her for a long, lingering moment, his eyes intense and profound, then he turned and she gripped the stock of his crossbow tighter in her hand as they descended down the last few steps. Beth stopped long enough to pick her knife up, then they begun to fight their way through the small crowd of walkers. Beth's hand never left Daryl's crossbow, not even for a second, not even when her body cried out in exhaustion.

The pitiless rain hammered down on their sodden bodies and the wind was brisk and unforgiving as they ran. They rounded a corner and found themselves back at the entrance of the library. Their group surrounded their vehicles and Beth was mollified to find her group safe. She could see Lori safely hidden in one of the locked vehicles as the others fired bullets at the steady stream of walkers that flowed out of the library's entrance door.

'There they are!' Glenn exclaimed and Beth was overwhelmed with emotion; her group hadn't left them to fend for themselves.

'Get outta here!' Daryl ordered and Rick immediately signalled for the others to get into their vehicles.

Beth and Daryl raced towards his motorbike and she struggled to keep up with his fast strides as her sore muscles begun to slow her down. They mounted the motorbike and Daryl took off at full speed.

Beth rested her sore head against Daryl's wet wings and she smiled when she realised the material was beginning to feel familiar against her cheek. Beth pressed close to him as her body ached and her head pounded. Beth was grateful and knew she was indebted to the man she currently embraced so closely. She allowed herself to shut her stinging eyes and let the rain sprinkle her form as she entrusted Daryl to drive them to safety.

* * *

The gentle and rhythmic _snip snip_ of the scissors as they cut through her jagged, uneven hair had Beth on edge. Her eyes hadn't left the bathroom sink and, despite encouragement from her well-meaning sister, Beth hadn't been able to will herself to look in the small grubby mirror.

Once they had fled from the overrun library, their group had found a small abandoned house on the outskirts of Bridge Gate's town. The house wasn't at all secure and Beth had heard Rick and her daddy contemplating the advantages of putting another two people on watch tonight for extra security. Daryl had been especially wary of the house and had argued that they were still too close to the town centre. But their need for shelter from the punishing storm had been too great, so Rick had decided that the group would settle in the house for the night.

Maggie was delicate as she cut her sister's hair and Beth was appreciative of her efforts as her head still throbbed in pain. Her arms were stiff and ached terribly and her body was sore and battered and bruised.

'There. All done.' Maggie announced and, forgetful of Beth's smarting shoulder, she squeezed the muscle in what she had anticipated to be a reassuring gesture. Beth fought not to visibly wince and bit her lip against the sting. 'You look gorgeous, Beth.' Maggie stated and Beth felt humiliated and embarrassed that she was still so vain in a world where beauty hardly mattered any more. Good looks certainly wouldn't help her survive. Yet, Beth still felt apprehensive and anxious. She had worn her hair long as far back as kindergarten. She let out a long, slow sigh, gathered her courage, then looked up and into the mirror.

Beth blinked at her reflection. She was relieved to find she hadn't chopped off as much hair as she first thought, though it was still a drastic change. Her hair was now only a couple of inches longer than her sisters and the tips of her soft strands just managed to lightly graze her shoulders. Honestly, Beth wasn't sure what to make of it or how to react, and the continuous _thump thump thump_ in her pounding head was only distracting her further. At least the haircut was more practical.

Beth curled an index finger around a lock of hair.

'What do you think?' Her sister asked, eager. Beth stared at Maggie's smiling reflection and for the first time she actually thought they looked like sisters.

'You did a good job,' was all Beth could think to say.

Maggie sighed, frustrated, and placed the scissors down on the sink that was now sprinkled with small strands of hair. 'You'll get used to it, Beth.' Maggie consoled. 'Besides, I think short hair suits you. It's a nice change.' She winked at her little sister and added, 'Makes you look older.'

Beth had to smile at that. Maggie knew just how much she hated looking younger than her age.

Maggie glided a motherly hand through Beth's dirty tresses, then hugged her sister from behind and Beth once again reprimanded herself for being so stupid earlier. Maggie or her daddy or anyone in her group could have been hurt because she hadn't listened to Daryl. Beth pushed the guilt away to the back of her mind where she could dwell on it when she was on her own and let herself enjoy her sister's embrace.

It was a while before either of them spoke. 'Let's go down stairs.' Maggie finally said and Beth groaned out her disapproval to the suggestion. 'Oh, come on. Everyone's going to make such a big fuss over how pretty your hair looks.' And it was for that reason exactly that Beth wished to stay in the bathroom for the rest of the night. Maggie loved being the centre of attention, but Beth preferred to go unnoticed. She didn't want people fussing around her. Maggie gave her a playful squeeze, to which Beth giggled, before she let go and moved to the bathroom door. 'Coming?'

Beth inspected her reflection again and noted her shortened hair, her sunken complexion and her worn eyes, bruised from exhaustion. Her body continued to ache and she wanted nothing more than to curl up in a soft, warm bed and sleep.

'Yeah.'

* * *

The moment Daryl heard Beth pad quietly down the creaking stairs, a shimmering fury that he had barely been able to keep at bay threatened to erupt. His head tilted in her direction as she hesitated on the stairs, and then Glenn's voice could be heard as he loudly begun to compliment her. Daryl listened as Beth thanked him in a hushed, self-conscious tone, then Glenn's footsteps started and sounded louder and louder until he appeared in the doorway of the living room. Behind the Korean, Daryl could hear Beth's feet shuffle away from the living room in an obvious attempt to evade the group for as long as possible, and her feet gently stomped in the direction of the kitchen.

Daryl quickly surveillance the crowded living room, then silently vacated the room and prowled after her. He found her in the kitchen, her back to him, picking at the lid of an empty coke can.

He caught a glimpse of an ugly, purple bruise on her shoulder before Beth pulled her sleeve back into place and it was enough for him to justify the seething rage he felt towards her. He stalked over to her unsuspecting form, then gripped her unblemished shoulder in a steel hold and relished in her fright when she jumped at his touch and dropped the coke can. He forced her forward, through the kitchen door and out onto a sheltered porch. Beth squirmed under his hold as his foot slammed the kitchen door shut after them. The wind was powerful and colder than ice and Daryl felt her shiver instantly and almost felt sorry for her.

Daryl turned her to face him and he watched her glare waver at the sight of his stormy expression. Beth tried to retreat but his grip was firm and unrelenting.

'You opened the door.' Daryl accused. Beth looked stricken and her gaze fell to the floor. The rain _pitter patter_-ed against the wooden canopy above them and her silence was telling. It was all the answer he needed. His nostrils flared and he couldn't believe her stupidity. 'Wha' the hell were you thinkin', Beth? Wha' did I say ta you?'

'To stay close.' She mumbled.

'Ta stay close. And wha' did you do?'

Her free hand tugged at the hem of her shirt and she still couldn't meet his eyes. 'Wandered off.'

His eyes narrowed and his heart raced in his anger. 'You wandered off.' Her eyes finally met his, dulled with remorse and shame and self-deprecation, and for a moment Daryl forgot his anger. He couldn't stand the sight of the melancholy slump of her delicate shoulders or the tremble in her bottom lip and in a moment of complete abnormality, Daryl wished he knew how to compliment her so that he could tell her how he thought her hair framed her face perfectly and made her look older, like a beautifully grown woman. The strange impulse only managed to rile his anger further.

'You coulda been killed Beth.' He barked and the thought alone made him want to shake her. 'Any of the others coulda been killed. Don't tha' resonate in that brain a'yours?' He tapped her forehead for good measure and she scrunched her nose and shrunk away from him. His breath came out in short, heavy pants from the sheer strength of his ire and he suddenly became aware of a startling realisation; he had only ever felt this passionately for one other person: Merle. Daryl swallowed thickly, immediately on guard. He couldn't comprehend how he could come to care for the girl in such a small amount of time when he had spent his whole life happily keeping people at a distance. She already had a strong control over his emotions.

Daryl relinquished his hold on her and drew away. He turned from her, unwilling to allow her the chance to detect the unease in his eyes. His hand cradled the back of his neck and he leaned his head back, then led out a weary sigh. Once he was ready, he faced her again and confessed, 'You're makin' it real hard for me ta protect you, Beth.'

Her stance changed then and she became angry, defensive. 'Why are you botherin—' her voice hitched '—why are you botherin' ta protect me at all?' Her eyes had brightened with emotion and unshed tears and they looked so very blue in her outrage. 'We all know I won't survive long out here. So why are you even bothering, Daryl?'

Daryl reeled back like she had just hit him and his rage spiked at her words. 'Is that wha' you think?'

'Yeah,' Beth challenged. 'Yeah, it is.' A sense of helplessness coiled around Daryl's heart and the feeling reminded him of the day he had first heard that Beth had tried to kill herself. He had been so stunned, had felt so weak and angry and useless as he listened, and had spent the remainder of the day in the woods, taking his anger out on his prey. Since that day, Daryl had always feared that Beth would try again and, despite her reassurances, he couldn't seem to dispel his worry. Beth's voice was firm as she continued, 'Don't you look at me like that, like I'm just gonna go and off myself. I've already told you I ain't suicidal, I want to live. But I'm not going to fool myself either. You said it yourself, I'm not built for this world.'

He had heard enough. 'Shut up.'

But Beth was defiant. 'No!' Daryl began to pace because it was the only way he could alleviate his anger without resorting to violence. Christ, it was much easier arguing with Merle. Beth's voice sounded resigned to his keen ears as she admitted, 'I know I'm the weakest here and I know I'm not going to make it out here for long. I'm okay with that. I thought you had realised this too.'

'Really?' Daryl spat, and sarcasm coated the word thickly.

Beth bristled. 'Yes.' She gritted through clenched teeth.

Daryl wanted to shut her up and he wished she was Merle so that he could just take a swing and start a full on brawl, but she wasn't and all he could think to do instead was kiss her. And that terrified him more than a beating from Merle ever could. But he couldn't; he wouldn't; no matter how powerful the urge suddenly was and no matter how much his fingers itched to wrap themselves in her short hair and pull, no matter how inviting her lips looked and, certainly, no matter how good he imagined crushing his lips against hers would feel. He turned his back on her again because his lust had to be easier to control when he didn't have to look into her wide, innocent eyes. He placed a hand over his mouth and shuddered. He chided himself for daring to imagine Beth in such a way and tried to remember how angry he was with her. Once his craving had calmed, he turned back to her. 'So that's it?' He rasped out. 'You ain't even gonna fight?'

Beth cross her arms against her chest and frowned. 'Didn't you hear me? I want to live, but I'm being real—'

'I ain't hearin' no more,' Daryl snapped, irritated with her and shaken from the strength of his inappropriate urges. He swiped his forearm across his head as an idea begun to form. It would be tedious work, but if it helped to keep Beth safe, he would do it. 'You know what? You're righ'. You won't last two minutes, not as you are.' He paused and Beth glanced away from him. 'But I can show you how to survive.'

Beth stared at him, surprised. 'You'll show me? How?'

The question was completely innocent but Daryl could suddenly imagine a hundred different implications and scenarios that set his body aflame and he wondered what the fuck was wrong with him. He must be delirious from exhaustion. He shrugged at her and craved for a smoke. 'Could show you how ta shoot a gun, how ta fight. I'll get you fit n' show you how ta properly hold your knife. I'll show you how ta hunt too. Then you won't have no excuses.'

Beth slowly lowered her arms to her sides and hesitantly smiled. 'You think you could make me as strong as Maggie?'

'Stronger.'

Beth looked dubious, but he would show her.

Beth stared at him, her head cocked slightly. 'You're really going ta train me?'

He shrugged again and scuffed his shoe against the wooden platform. 'Wouldn'ta offered if I weren't willin' ta.'

'Okay.' Beth quietly agreed.

Daryl cleared his throat, nervous now that he wasn't angry at her any more. 'Good.' He said, and it really was because if today had taught him anything, it was that no matter how much he wanted to protect Beth, he couldn't always be with her. She had to learn how to take care of herself. Quickly.

An awkward silence fell between them, only broken by the rhythmic beating of the torrential rain. 'Um,' Beth started, shy once again, and Daryl marvelled that the girl before him now was the same girl that had just stood up to him. 'I'm... going to go back inside.' She announced and backed away from him, towards the kitchen door.

'Righ'.' He acknowledged, just as awkward.

He turned away from her and stared out into the inky blackness of the night. He heard her shuffle to the door and there was a pause. 'Daryl?'

His answering hum was soft, distracted, the intonation rising towards the end. He turned to face her just as Beth threw herself at him. He stumbled and grunted as he caught her. Her arms wrapped solidly around his waist and her hands clutched at his robust frame. Daryl tensed. 'I'm sorry for being stupid today.' Beth told him, her voice weak with regret. Daryl slowly softened in her embrace and a hand came up to cup her shoulder blade. 'I was so scared. A-And I wasn't thinking. I...' Her voice hitched again and he felt her press closer. 'I don't know what I'd do without you any more, Daryl.' Beth confessed and Daryl was floored. It was the closest anyone had ever come to admitting they needed him and he felt an intense desire to kiss her again and this time he wasn't afraid. He wouldn't act on it; but he wasn't afraid any more.

His thumb repetitively caressed the elegant arch of her scapula and cautiously, slowly, he rested his chin on the crown of her head. He couldn't fathom any of the turbulent emotions he felt from Beth's close proximity but he reasoned they must be fleeting. Yet, in this significant moment, he acquiesced and embraced them and they filled his heart to the brim and left a pleasant, profound warmth that radiated within him. He had never felt so content and at peace and, even if only for a fraction of a moment, Daryl wished with his whole being for the feeling to never end.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: So sorry about the delay. I won't lie, I totally procrastinated. Started watching interviews with TWD cast and couldn't stop. Anyone else here adore Michael Rooker (Merle)? He seems like such an awesome guy. Would love to meet him. I've actually thought about starting a Merle/OC story just because he has completely won me over, so let me know if any of you are interested. Anyway, here's a stupidly long chapter to make up for the unnecessary wait. And as always, the reviews have been so encouraging. Thank you to everyone who takes the time to write me one. Warning: a ridiculous amount of time skips in this chapter so that we can get to the action and drama in the next chapter.

* * *

Good Men

CHAPTER 6

'It's, uh, heavier than I thought.'

'You'll get used ta it. Now c'mon, focus. Remember wha' I taugh' ya. Aim.'

Beth gave a strained grunt as she raised Daryl's crossbow until it was eye level. 'Like this?'

Beth heard the faint rustle of his clothing as Daryl neared her and her rebellious heart began to pound in response. His prodigious presence enveloped her completely like time-worn blanket and she found it solacing and safe. Daryl was close enough to her that Beth could feel the quiet warmth of his body radiate against her back, and his heat compelled her body to become over-sensitized to his every touch and movement. She was afraid to admit just how nice it felt. His nearness was steadily making her nervous and a tremor began in her arms and she hoped Daryl would presume her unsteady pose was due to her arms being too weak to carry the weight of his crossbow. Beth couldn't grasp why she found Daryl's closeness so distracting, so disconcerting, she only knew that she did and she couldn't make any sense of the jittery feelings in her heart and stomach.

Beth heard a low grunt beside her ear and Daryl clearly sounded dissatisfied. Then Beth felt his chest and stomach graze her back and shoulders and suddenly her back was burning and it felt wonderful. A calloused palm engulfed her elbow and lifted it level with the crossbow. 'Th'stock needs ta be cradled in the crook of your elbow. Makes it easier ta aim n' balance. Like this.' His voice rumbled against her back and her eyes fluttered involuntarily from the pleasant vibrations. 'Ya see?'

Beth nodded and half of her willed him to move away.

Their dispute over her actions in the library over a week ago had caused Beth to become a lot more aware of Daryl. It had been the affliction in his eyes, the way he had held her, the sheer anger in his stance that had made Beth realise Daryl honestly cared about her well being. Since that day, Daryl's long glances, his fleeting touches and his gruff voice have begun to provoke the most fierce and confusing emotions in Beth. Any thoughts she had of Daryl lately would induce an ache in her chest that she could only describe as an awful, perpetual longing. Yet, what it was she longed for from Daryl, she couldn't perceive.

The sheer depth of the longing and the intensity of the unknown emotions frightened Beth. Moreover, she was frustrated that Daryl did not have to endure them. She was positive he didn't; where she had become skittish of every brush of his skin against her own, Daryl had no qualms about touching her or being near her. Only yesterday, the slightest brush of his fingers against her wrist as he took her proffered bowl of stew had almost made her leap and her face had warmed with a soft blush, and she had actually considered asking him if he had the slightest inkling of what she was feeling. But, Beth had reasoned as he moved away with a soft grunt as thanks, Daryl was even more emotionally stunted than she. He wouldn't know.

'A'righ'.' Daryl's mutter startled her from her musings and Beth was instantly frustrated with herself. She wasn't sitting through a calculus lecture, Daryl was training her in the essentials for survival. She needed to concentrate. 'I'mma let you hit the target by yourself. See how much you remember.' At Beth's hesitant nod, his hand released her elbow and he stepped back slightly. The heat of his larger body continued to seep through her clothing. It was addicting.

After a short pause where Beth continued to stand still, she finally heard Daryl coax, 'What's the first thing you need ta do, Beth?'

Beth pressed her eyes closed and tried to make sense of her scrambled thoughts. 'Clear... clear my mind.' She stuttered, unsure. 'I need ta clear my mind.'

_By God, _did she need to clear her mind.

'Good girl,' Daryl approved and Beth's heart jumped at the praise. 'Always keep your mind clear n' focused. If you let strong emotions cloud your judgement, you'll never be able ta concentrate n' your bolt will never hit your target. At close range, tha' could get you killed.' He stepped in close again and Beth tried her hardest to suppress a shiver. 'Takin' deep breaths always helps me clear ma head. Take 'em wit' me.' Daryl instructed.

With each inhale Daryl's broad chest brushed against Beth's back, and with each exhale his breath whispered down her neck and it left goosebumps on her sensitive skin and a strange need for him to continue. Beth somehow managed to imitate his breathing but it wasn't clearing her head at all because now she could detect his thick, male scent and stale cigarette smoke in the surrounding air.

'Focused?' Daryl asked, his voice quiet.

'Yeah.' Beth lied.

'Bolt in place?'

Beth checked to ensure the bolt was locked in its perch just as she was taught, then affirmed. 'Yes.'

'Then aim. An' when you're ready, shoot.'

Beth was relieved when Daryl finally gave her some space. She breathed in deeply once more, and this time it calmed her accelerating heartbeat. With a heavy exhale, Beth tilted her head to look out of the scope. Out of habit, she almost closed one eye, but remembered Daryl insisting during a short rant that having both eyes open was more effective if she actually wanted to hit her target. Beth peered through the scope and located the target Daryl made for her. The target was nothing more than a large, thick piece of bark with a rope attached so that they could tie the target to tree branches or anything else just as useful. Close to the centre of the bark, but not _quite_ in the centre—'_Goddamn, girl, it's close enough!'—_Daryl had hand carved a rough circle to serve as the bullseye.

Beth aimed for the dead centre of the wonky bullseye but her hands still shook. When she squeezed the trigger the bolt shot off from its perch and ricocheted off the branch above the target and landed feet away from the tree. Beth groaned and her shoulders slumped in disappointment as she lowered the crossbow.

'Not bad for your first shot.' Daryl tried to mollify.

Beth sighed and trudged over to retrieve the bolt. 'I don't understand why you're teachin' me to use your crossbow.' Beth whined. 'I'll never get to use it against any walkers 'cause it's your weapon.'

Daryl motioned for her to get back into position and she did so reluctantly. He took the crossbow from her and loaded the bolt with deft hands. Then he handed the crossbow back to her. He pressed his front into her back and raised her elbow again and Beth tensed as her heart skipped and she was almost beside herself with frustration at her uncontrollable reactions. 'If we were ta find an arsenal or any sort'a weapons store, it would most likely be raided already.' Daryl arranged his body around hers and his hands pressed her smaller ones into their correct positions on the crossbow. 'There would be no more knives or guns ta choose from since they're the easiest and most common weapons ta learn ta use. Aim.' She lowered her head to the scope once again and Daryl followed her movement. 'The crossbow takes time n' practise ta master, but its very effective when used righ'. But people don' have time any more. So there'd be plenty of good quality crossbows lying 'round the store. You could have your own if ya wanted.'

Then, Daryl pressed Beth's finger into the trigger and the bolt shot out, lightening fast, through the air and landed perfectly in the middle of the bullseye.

Beth gaped.

She turned her head to Daryl and her nose almost brushed against his. 'You can hit the bullseye every time, can't you?'

'After years'a practise, ya damn righ' I can.'

Beth laughed, but her throat tightened when she noticed a subtle change in his eyes. At first she thought they looked softer, but there was a glint that accompanied that softness and it darkened his eyes to an almost navy colour. Beth had never seen such a look in anyone's eyes before. His even exhales drifted gently over her nose and lips and abruptly every part of her body he touched was heightened and prickled. Then a sudden deep, fierce heat throbbed between her legs and she flinched out of Daryl's arms and recoiled from him as though the heat of his body scorched her.

Her legs were weak and she clutched Daryl's crossbow close to her chest. Beth gasped and held her breath and clenched her eyes closed against the overwhelming heat in her core. Then she sighed deeply and slowly turned to face the redneck. When she glanced at him, his eyebrows were drawn in question. 'I-I, um...' She fought to find her voice as she struggled with her mortification. Beth could admit to being naive a lot of the time, but even she had curiously explored her body before now. Beth knew exactly what she had just felt, what Daryl had just made her feel, but she had never felt such a violent jolt of arousal before. 'I'll try again. By myself.' Beth said and hurried to retrieve the embedded bolt.

Daryl hesitated for a moment and seemed a bit put out. 'A'righ'.' He finally complied. He waited for her to load the crossbow.

'Get into position. Aim.'

* * *

'You want me to _what?'_

'You heard me, girl.'

'No. No. I refuse.'

Daryl heaved a sharp sigh. 'You're gonna hav'ta learn at sum point.'

Beth was pale and she shook her head frantically from side to side. 'Don't make me.' She begged.

Daryl snorted, her wide eyes having no effect on him, and Beth pouted at his lack of empathy. 'I though' you was meant ta be a farmers girl.' Daryl taunted as he knelt to remove his knife from his boot. 'It really ain't as bad as you're makin' it out ta be.'

Beth retreated from him as if she believed he would turn his knife on her. 'I _am_ a farmers girl. My daddy taught me ta ride horses and grow crops and I even got to drive the tractor 'round the fields a couple of times. But he kept me away from the animals. Thankfully. I was too young ta help out when my daddy took care of farm animals. Never had to feed 'em or milk 'em or... or... what are you doing?!'

'If you ain't gonna do it, I am. You can watch an' try next time.'

'Daryl...' His name was a small plea that he chose to completely ignore.

Beth glimpsed over her shoulder to where their campsite was just within visual distance, and longed to hide herself away in the trunk of one of their vehicles, anything to get away from Daryl and the gruesome task he had set out for her. Daryl knelt before a flat, dull-grey rock and settled his load on the rough surface. Then he turned to her and gave her a surly glare. 'Do ya wanna eat tanigh'?' He asked, his timbre sharp and stern. At her grudging nod, Daryl continued, 'Then you're gonna hav'ta learn how ta skin your kill.' Beth's hand reached for the hem of her sleeve, stressed, and she heard Daryl grumble, 'Ain't livin' on no Goddamn berries.' He removed his crossbow and leaned it against the protruding stone, then he looked up at her and gestured to the space beside him. 'Sit down. I'll show ya wha' ta do.'

Beth's stomach was tying itself in knots and Daryl hadn't even begun. But she listened and slowly knelt beside him.

Daryl didn't wait long enough to determine if she was ready, he promptly begun without another glance at her. He retrieved the first game they hunted down and sliced a long strip from the squirrel's hind legs to the middle of its back. Beth's stomach flipped and she clutched it tenderly. He then seized each side of the large gash and pulled at the fur and Beth turned from the sight and almost heaved as her stomach churned and twisted over itself. She heard a loud scoff behind her. 'Weak-ass.' Daryl mocked and Beth tossed him an irate glare. He smirked. 'We ain't even gutted it yet.'

Beth whimpered. 'I don't think I can do this, Daryl.'

'You can, Beth, an' you will.' He promised her and finished skinning the first squirrel. 'It's gonna get easier with practise.' He reassured her and picked his knife up. 'Overwhelming hunger will stop ya feelin' so squeamish.' He quipped. He lowered his knife to the squirrel's underbelly and warned, 'I'm gonna gut th'game next, an' I don' wan' ya turnin' away 'less ya _really _gotta heave this time.' Daryl stared hard at her and Beth felt her resolve returning. She hadn't realised how greatly she wished for his praise and approval. Beth gave herself a moment to calm her sensitive stomach, then when she was certain she was ready, she gave Daryl one firm nod.

Beth flinched when the knife pierced the tiny stomach, but she didn't turn away. She didn't turn away when Daryl begun on the next game, nor the one after, nor the last. Beth's stomach rolled, nauseated, and she was ready to vomit, but she was ridiculously proud of her resolve. She didn't look away once.

'There. Weren' so bad, was it?' Daryl had the nerve to ask, his smirk brazen. Blood pooled the stone surface.

Beth curled into herself and clutched her stomach as it gave another violent churn. She glared weakly at him. 'I won' be able ta eat anythin' tonight.' She complained, mostly to spite Daryl's efforts.

'Then I'll jus' hav'ta force it down ya.' Daryl retorted as he tied the ready squirrels back onto his rope.

Beth frowned and refused to respond.

Daryl finished his task and held the game out in front of her. Beth's hand reached for the rope and she noticed Daryl took great pains to avoid contact with her. Beth softened at his thoughtfulness. He had been careful to evade all contact with her since she flinched away from him during their first training session almost a month ago. She knew he was uncommonly observant and must have realised his touch was causing disturbing reactions within her, and so must have concluded avoidance of all contact between them would help her. Only, the distance wasn't alleviating her emotions at all; the longing was increasing. 'G'on n' give them ta Lori. I'm gettin' hungry.'

Beth sighed and got to her feet. Her legs shook slightly as her stomach protested against the movement. 'Fine.' She muttered and turned to the camp.

'You're gettin' the day of tamorrow.' Daryl called after her and she paused in her step. Beth turned back to him, her eyes alight with question. Since her first session, Daryl had trained her every single day. And she loved her lessons. Daryl was a surprisingly good instructor, if not very patient, and she adored how passionate he became when he explained a new survival tip. She had quickly come to realise he was simply brilliant. He may never be an academic, but he was brilliant, adept, resourceful and skilled in the areas that matter. 'I know your shoulder's still givin' you sum trouble. Take a day ta rest it.'

Beth's hand grasped her injured shoulder and stroked the yellowing bruise through her clothing. It was frustrating that, a month on, her shoulder was still healing. Beth gave him a small, grateful smile. 'Thanks, Daryl.'

His response was a quiet, uncomfortable grunt, and Beth hid a smile as she continued towards the camp.

By the time the meat was cooked and served, the sun had begun to set behind the dense forest and the sky was stained an array of pink, orange and blue. The pale glow of the moon was faint and the fire was quickly becoming their only source of light. Beth cupped her share of the food close to her body and savoured the comforting heat that rose from the bowl and heated her hands. The nights were getting cooler. She hoped her group would find suitable shelter before the winter started. Beth stirred her squirrel stew, then brought a spoonful to her mouth. She relished the taste as if she was eating the finest steak, her empty stomach finally appeased, and she felt a wave of gratefulness to have Daryl as part of their group.

Her eyes naturally sought out the crossbow wielding redneck and found him sitting on the opposite side of the fire. He cradled his own bowl of stew on his lap and Beth's eyes glittered with amusement as she observed his complete lack of table manners. Daryl ate like he was convinced he never would again; he shovelled his food in his mouth and barely chewed and even took the time to lick his fingers clean. The sight should have repelled her, and would have if it was any other person, but it was yet another quirk of his that made him so wild, so feral, so _Daryl_. He was always most as ease when prowling through the wilderness or filling his bottomless stomach. Beth watched Rick advance towards Daryl and clap his shoulder in thanks for providing for the group once again, and she examined the way Daryl grimaced at the unwanted touch and hunched his shoulders away from Rick, and she frowned.

Beth was well aware that Daryl had a strong aversion to physical affection. The tense set of his muscles as she hugged him back on the porch had been enough of a clue. But then it dawned on her that Daryl allowed her to touch him whenever she wanted and he never once pulled away, no matter how uncomfortable it made him. More so, _Daryl _touched _her. _A lot. He never touched the others in their group unless it was absolutely necessary, but he touched her. Hardly ever hesitated, in fact.

And Beth wondered then, with rising horror, if Daryl regarded her flinch as a rejection to his touch. _No, he couldn't, _she tried to reassure herself, but guilt and dread were suddenly weighing on her heart and the pressure couldn't be ignored. Daryl, despite the hardened persona he projected to the group, was sensitive and she knew he shied away from people to avoid the hurt and rejection he believed were inevitable. And the more she thought about it, the clearer it became that Daryl couldn't have known her reasoning for cringing away from him. Beth hadn't even provided him with an explanation. It was no wonder Daryl was so careful not to touch her any more. He was wary of another rejection from her.

Beth finished her dinner in silence, but the food was bitter in her mouth now and she found it hard to sallow around the painful lump in her throat. She kept her unwavering stare trained on Daryl and decided she didn't ever want Daryl to think she had rejected him. She didn't ever want him to feel that way.

She started when Daryl stood up and wiped his hands on his torn jeans. He hefted his crossbow onto his shoulder and made his way around the fire, and as he passed her Beth jumped up, her cutlery spilling onto the grass. 'Daryl wait!' Beth cried out and she wasn't sure why. Daryl turned and fixed her with a quizzical stare. Beth tucked a stray strand of knotted hair behind her ear and asked, 'Where're you goin'?'

He swiped the back of his hand against his nose. 'I'mma take a piss.'

'Great. I'll come too.' Daryl gave her an odd look and Beth stumbled to correct herself. 'I-I mean, I need ta go too.'

'C'mon then.'

Beth trailed behind him and fought to gather her courage. Perhaps, she thought, if she initiated physical contact he would see she hadn't been rejecting him. She could only hope. Beth quickened her pace and reached his side. She glanced up at him and realised then just how tall he was compared to her. She didn't reach his chin. Beth was unsure how to proceed; she contemplated brushing her hand against his, taking his hand in hers, linking her arm through his, she even thought of just going all for it and forcing him into a hug.

Eventually, Beth made her decision. She held her breath and readied herself for the onslaught of emotions Daryl's touch never failed to evoke in her, then gently, hesitantly, she lifted a hand and wrapped her small fingers around a large bicep. She then curled her free arm around his and cradled his arm close to her side. Instant sparks shot up her arm and into her heart and this time she refused to panic at the feelings he created; she instead chose to bask in the sensations. Daryl abruptly tensed and she felt his gaze bore down into the crown of her head and she closed her eyes because she was certain he was going to pull away from her.

He didn't.

Daryl showed no outward sign of approval towards her touch, but he didn't recoil from her and even relaxed in her hold. Beth sighed, relieved, and smiled at the ground. Now that she could somewhat control her involuntary panic, Beth was beginning to discover the emotions he provoked in her were pleasant, if intense, and caused a beautiful warmth to fill her being. She glanced up at him and caught his eye, and she couldn't control the wide smile that graced her features. Her heart suddenly felt full with inexplicable happiness and when she saw Daryl's lips curl upwards just slightly, her heart twisted, and it felt glorious.

* * *

'Daryl?'

'Hm?'

'What are you doing?'

'It's fuckin' freezin'.'

'That doesn't really answer my question. What're you doin' with that horse blanket?'

There was a loud ripping sound that was soon followed by a strained grunt, then Daryl held the thick blanket out in front of him to inspect his work. 'It ain' a horse blanket no more.' He countered. He must have deemed the design satisfactory because he then dropped his knife to the floor and threw the patterned blanket over his head. There was a small struggle, which Beth watched with growing amusement, then Daryl's head popped out of the hole he ripped in the fabric, his hair ruffled and sticking up at odd angles. He patted the blanket over his chest and rolled his shoulders. 'It's ma poncho.'

Beth grinned and shook her head at him. 'You look ridiculous.'

'Don' care, this thing's Africa hot.'

Beth laughed at the petulant tone in his voice and continued laying out her sleeping bag in the doorway of the abandoned RV they found earlier that day. The mobile home was small; it could barely fit four people in it at one time. But it had been filled with canned food and old clothes and blankets and torches. They decided as a group that the RV would provide good shelter for Lori for the night. The baby was beginning to show now and the extra weight was taking its toll on her back, so as the RV housed a small bed Rick decided the vehicle would be useful for the night. Despite their tension, Rick didn't want his wife to suffer.

Once she had finished sorting her bed for the night, Beth went in search for her sister. 'Maggie!' She called once she located her and made her way over to her big sister. 'Just wanted to say goodnight. Be safe on watch tonight. You too Glenn.'

Maggie rolled her eyes and kissed her cheek. 'You worry too much, Bethy. You go and get some sleep.'

'Goodnight, Beth.' Glenn added, then together the couple trekked to the edge of the campsite where they would keep watch for the night.

Beth next found her daddy warming his gloved hands by the fire. 'Are you heading to bed soon, daddy?'

'I was just about to.' Her father replied and gathered her close and kissed her forehead. 'Goodnight, angel.'

'Night, daddy.'

Beth then headed back to the RV. On her way she paused long enough to wish Rick and T-Dog, the only other two still awake, a good night. As she drew nearer to the mobile home, she spotted Daryl sitting on the edge of his sleeping bag, leaning back against the RV. A lit cigarette hung from between his lips and his eyes were lightly shut as he savoured the toxic fumes. His bedding was laid out right in front of the door to the RV, so Beth had to climb over his belongings to get to the metal steps. She placed a foot on the first step, then paused. 'Goodnight Daryl.' She murmured quietly. A distracted hum was her only response.

She climbed up the steps and pulled off her threadbare winter jacket. The jacket was not very effective against the cooling nights, the material was worn and torn and frayed, but the chill hit her instantly without the extra layer. Beth clambered under her sleeping bag and tugged her ragged jacket on top of her for additional warmth. She burrowed into her blankets and curled her body to ward off the cold. She spied Daryl settling into his own sleeping bag for the night, just feet away from her, and she liked to pretend he picked that spot so he could better protect her.

The night was quickly becoming the coldest yet and Beth believed winter had finally settled over Georgia. The wind was like ice and her body shivered and her teeth chattered and she really should have known her jacket wouldn't provide any warmth. She blew on her numb fingers and clenched her eyes closed and curled tighter into herself, but she couldn't heat up at all.

'Oomf!'

A sudden heavy weight covered her head and she grappled with the material. 'Wha-?' Beth finally managed to haul the offending object off her face, then she scrambled to sit up in her sleeping bag. She shook her head then looked down to find Daryl's newly fashioned poncho in her lap. 'Daryl-?'

'Jus' take th'damn thing.' She heard him grumble and she stared at his rigid back, confused. 'Anythin' ta stop ya squirmin'.'

Despite his instance, she still protested. 'But then you'll be cold.'

''m fine, girl. 'm used ta the cold.'

Another forceful wind blew through the doorway and she felt her resolve begin to crumble. 'You sure you don't mind?'

'If it stops those teeth a'yours chatterin'. Can't hear maself think, nevermand try'n'a get sum sleep.'

Beth smiled at him, touched by his selflessness. Daryl could deny it all he wanted, but she knew he had a soft heart. She laid back down and drew Daryl's poncho over her. The heat of his body lingered on the blanket and immediately warmed up her own body. There was even a faint trace of Daryl's scent in the blanket, so she fisted the material under her nose and breathed. The familiar sense of protection enveloped her and her eyes begun to droop as she lazily smiled. 'You're so good ta me...' Beth murmured and the words barely registered in her clouding mind. She heard a rustle but it seemed far away now. She felt too comfortable to care for anything, only sleep.

And so she slept.

* * *

'I did it.'

'I know.'

'I _did_ it.'

'I can see tha'.'

'I really really did it. And I didn't even puke!'

'Don' speak too soon, darlin'.'

Beth felt queasy and dizzy and nauseous, but the sheer sense of accomplishment and pride she experienced completely overwhelmed any other emotion she currently endured. Not only had she successfully tracked and hunted down her very first prey, but she had skinned and gutted the rabbit too without any interference from Daryl. The ground before her was stained red and her hands trembled, but she felt brave, she felt capable, she felt useful. She truly felt part of the group now. Beth turned to Daryl with a mirthful smile and, still in slight disbelief, laughed out once again, 'Daryl, I did it. I actually did it.'

Beth crashed into him then, her enthusiasm just that great. She buried her face into his layered chest and held him tightly. Daryl's long fingers wound themselves around her short tresses and trailed gently down her hair and playfully tickled the back of her ear. 'Told ya.' He boasted.

'You did.' Beth agreed softly and pressed her cheek against the woolly fabric of his poncho. Daryl had believed in her long before she started to believe in herself, after all. To know she had provided food for the group during a time where most animals were hibernating brought a thrill to her heart. And she had the incredible man in her embrace to thank. And she would thank him, somehow. One day.

* * *

'Wha...-?'

_'Shh!'_

'Beth?'

'Keep it down. You'll wake everyone.'

Daryl blinked his tired eyes open and lifted his head up to get a better look at her in the dying firelight. 'Wha' you doin' up?' His voice rasped, thick with sleep. In his half asleep state, he almost reached out for her.

Beth knelt over him and he watched, entranced, as dark shadows, projected by feeble flames, danced across her face and illuminated her eyes until they appeared to sparkle down at him. Beth shifted and raised her hands and his body was swiftly engulfed by a heavy heat. 'I could see you shivering from the other side of the campsite. I think you need this more than me tonight.' Daryl clutched at the material Beth had draped over him and recognised the rough texture of his poncho. He instantly tried to argue but Beth was adamant. 'Anythin' to stop those teeth a'yours chattering'.' She repeated fondly, and he had to smirk at her cheek. The night so far had been especially cold and he had found it increasingly difficult to cope with the chill, only managing to drift into a light sleep before a particularly cold wind would wake him again.

She fussed with the poncho for a moment but Daryl didn't mind. He felt a constant desire to have her full attention on him, always. It was nice to have someone care for him. 'There.' Beth declared and patted his blanketed chest and smiled down at him. His heart soared. 'You need carin' just as much as the rest of us.' Beth proclaimed. Then she leant in close and his heart stuttered to a halt as her soft lips pressed into his stubbled cheek. His hands fisted. 'Sleep tight.' She whispered against him, then she pulled back and stood up, and all he could do was gawk after her as she turned and headed back towards her bedding.

Daryl watched her as Beth climbed back under her own covers and settled in for the remainder of the night. He, too, attempted to get back to sleep, but there was a pleasant, compelling scent that clung to his poncho and he instinctively knew the scent belonged to Beth. The aroma quickly overwhelmed his senses, and when he was finally able to drift off to sleep, Daryl dreamt of wide blue eyes darked with hunger and an innocent smile that veiled an animalistic need and an unquenchable lust for soft flesh and when he finally awoke, his first thought was of Beth and the irrefutable longing he felt for her.

Daryl curved his arm over his eyes and groaned as he felt his hardened flesh straining against the the confines of his pants.

'Shit.' He cursed and sat up with some difficulty, his head still foggy with sleep. The sun had risen in the sky and emitted weak rays that did nothing to warm his shivering body. A thin layer of frost coated the forest floor and he was suddenly aware of how desperately they needed shelter. He predicted snow very soon.

Daryl stretched, then gritted his teeth against the dull pain that pulsed in his engorged erection. He adjusted himself under his blankets and was relieved to find only Carol, who was on watch duty, was awake. He knew his problem wouldn't go away on its own. That would be too easy. The morning was cold, so Daryl believed a quick walk would calm him down. He tugged his poncho over his head because there was no way he was going to risk anyone seeing him in the state he was in.

He stood up and adjusted himself again, then picked up his crossbow. Then he stepped over his bedding and made his way over to Carol. 'Be back soon.' He muttered as he passed her and didn't pause long enough to hear her reply.

He trampled through the bare forest and crunched dead leaves under his heavy boots. He thought of finding shelter and of his diminishing supply of bolts and of the little food they had left to share around the group and of anything else that wasn't Beth. He walked on ever further and every breath he took showed as a plume of white steam. He wasn't calming down.

'Goddamnit!' Daryl snarled in frustration and kicked the nearest tree. He then threw his crossbow over his shoulder and dropped it to the earth beneath him and leant against the abused bark. His arousal was becoming painful and he just wanted relief.

He didn't want to but just once, just this once he would give in and then that would be it, because he really didn't want to. He honestly didn't. Beth was so young and pretty and he was a desperate old pervert for wanting her so completely but he would only give in this once. That would be it. He would be sedated then.

Daryl quickly scouted the surrounding area and strained his ears to listen for any danger. Once he felt assured he was alone, he twisted around and pressed his forehead against the uneven surface of the tree trunk. There was a tremor in his fingers as they hesitated over the buckle of his belt. He swallowed, his mouth dry, and when his fingers brushed the leather of his belt, his arousal twitched in anticipation and then he was tearing at his belt and ripping his zipper down and he felt utter relief as he was finally exposed to the crisp morning air.

He panted harshly and gripped himself tightly. His mouth hung open as he held the familiar weight in his hand and he realised then that it had been _months _since he had done this last. Before the world went to shit. He swallowed again as he began to tug at his length and his free hand slapped against the thick bark as sparks of pleasure darted up and down his spine. He tried to picture a faceless woman in a half-hearted attempt to ease his guilt but then those blue eyes were staring up at him in his minds eye and he wasn't strong enough to say no. His hand continued in a steady, twisting rhythm and he thought of Beth's tiny hands on him instead and he had to bite his sleeve to keep down his filthy moan.

Daryl could feel the tension coil deep within his stomach and he bared his teeth around his arm as the pleasure built. Slight tremors racked his body and his hips began to thrust into his fist. Daryl brushed his thumb over his tip and he imagined it was Beth's, her eyes wide and innocent as she started up at him from her kneeling position and a knowing smile curling her inviting lips, her only thought to make him feel good, and he suddenly wanted her to be real _so fucking much _that her name came, unbidden, and he couldn't stop himself from whispering 'Beth_._..' around a mouthful of material.

His thrusts were urgent now, his rhythm long gone, and he thought of her pretty face darkened by desperate need, a need that was only for him; that would only ever be for him. Daryl gasped and the tension in his gut was close to snapping and when his imagined Beth urged him to come—_'Come for me, Daryl. Please. I want to see...'—_he couldn't fight it and was sent groaning and shuddering over the edge.

His hips slowly came to a stop and he gasped for breath as his mouth finally gave up its hold on his arm. His eyes were half-lidded as he carefully tucked himself back into his pants and fastened his buckle. 'Christ.' He swore, breathless, his knees weak. He couldn't remember the last time an orgasm had felt that good.

Daryl felt a tiny droplet hit his nose and when he glanced up he found gentle snowflakes falling from the heavens. He wondered how long it had been snowing, then found the fine layer of snow that dusted his shoulders. Snowflakes drifted daintily around his tall frame and settled quietly on the forest floor. His group had to move. Daryl pushed away from the tree and knelt next to a small pile of dried-up leaves. He picked a couple up and used them to wipe his hand, then he stood back up and reached for his crossbow.

He was weak. He was loosing his head over one girl. God, if his brother knew, Merle would forever see him as a pussy. A whipped pussy. Weak. He would never gain his brother's respect. Yet, Daryl knew he craved Beth's touch. For as long as he could remember, Merle was the only person Daryl felt was safe enough to touch. He was his brother, after all. His blood. But now, he found any excuse to touch Beth. The sensations she created from just the slightest brush of her skin against his own was incredible, it was _addicting_. He never wanted the feelings to stop. There was so little in this world that made him feel good. And Beth did. Beth made him feel good.

Daryl tipped his head back and pressed his palms hard against his eyes. 'Fuck, fuck, fuck.' He cursed. He would put this morning behind him and never think on it again. He had to if he wanted to face Beth again. Beth had no idea a dirty old pervert, her friend, her _trusted _friend, craved her body and she never would. He couldn't bare the thought of her disgust if she ever found out. He didn't even care what Merle would think, Daryl didn't want to lose Beth's pure, rare friendship. He wouldn't.

He pushed back the rising apprehension at the notion of seeing Beth so soon and headed back to camp as a devastating sense of shame shimmered painfully in the pit of his stomach.

* * *

'What's in them hands a'yours, Beth?'

'N-Nothin'.'

'Lemme see.'

Beth scrambled up from the couch and her heart raced in her chest as she hid the objects in question behind her back. Her head pounded with the force of her blush and she scuffed her big toe against the carpeted floor. 'I-I...' she stammered, unable to make up an excuse on the spot. Daryl's tall form stood before her, arms crossed loosely against his chest and an eyebrow quirked in curiosity. Beth knew Daryl, knew just how curious he could be. Her shoulders slumped. He wouldn't leave her alone until he had seen. Beth slowly raised her eyes up to his face and shyly admitted, 'Back at the RV, when we were clearin' it out... in one of the boxes I found some things I thought you'd like. I've been hiding them in my bag, I was jus' waiting for the right time to give 'em to you.'

Daryl craned his neck to try and glance over her shoulder. 'Yeah? Now's as good a time as any. Wha' you find?'

Beth swallowed thickly, nervous. 'I wanted ta give them ta you kinda as a thank you present.' She professed, then she slowly unwound her arms from behind her back and held her hands out in front of her.

Daryl's eyebrows shot up, stunned, and he took a curious step forward. 'Bolts?'

Beth nodded. 'I noticed you ain't got a lot left. I could only find five, but I guess they're five more than you've got.' She felt ridiculously insecure. 'Thought they'd be a useful present.'

He was definitely eyeing them with interest, but then he frowned and shook his head at her. 'You don' need ta get me no presents. Don' wanna be thanked for teachin' ya how ta survive, darlin'.'

Beth's heart melted even as her lips thinned in disappointment. 'If you won't take them as a thank you present, how about a Christmas present? Christmas has ta be close. Might've even passed. Jus' take them, please. You need them.'

Daryl seemed stunned at the suggestion and paused for a long moment. Then he looked them over again and became contemplative. Eventually, he reached out for the bolts in her hand, took them from her grasp and inspected them with an approving eye. 'Good weight. Right length. None bent. Fletches in tact. Good quality.' Daryl muttered to himself, twisting the bolts this way and that in his hands. Then he looked up at her and he suddenly seemed shy. 'No ones ever given me a present before.' Daryl confessed and he looked almost ashamed, as though it was his fault.

Beth's heart bled for the little boy he once was and she wished she could take his childhood memories from him, even if it meant she had to carry them herself. The sacrifice would be worth it, she decided. Daryl had never confided in her about his childhood, but it didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened. Her daddy had gone through a similar experience. Beth knew Daryl wouldn't appreciate her sympathy, so she instead stated: 'Well, now I have.'

Daryl looked at her with that soft expression she was becoming used to receiving, and it never failed to make her knees buckle and her heart tremble. Beth watched him drink in every detail of her face until she became self-conscious. Then he blinked and bit the inside of his lip, as though at odds with himself. Beth followed the dip of his Adam's apple, then she jumped as he took a sudden step closer to her. His arms tentatively reached out for her and Beth held her breath. Daryl had never initiated a hug before now. His arms awkwardly came around her shoulders and he seemed so unsure, as though he was still afraid of rejection, so she slipped her arms easily around his waist and held him close.

Daryl soon settled in their embrace and she felt the familiar weight of his head press against her own. They stayed that way for as long as they dared and Beth still couldn't believe there was a time when she had feared his touch simply because of the feelings he induced in her. She embraced them now, she was addicted. Beth pulled back just enough to admire his relaxed features and her stomach flipped. Reluctantly, she remembered her duties. 'I better go help Lori get ready for bed.'

Daryl nodded, almost unwillingly, and stepped out of the embrace. She instantly felt cold and empty without him close to her. He played with the tip of one of his new bolts and said in a very matter-of-fact tone, 'Tha' girl's gonna bust if she gets any bigger.'

Beth looked at him in reproach, but she fought not to smile. 'Don't let her hear you. She blew up at T-Dog the other day. It was a terrifying sight.'

Daryl only _tsk_-ed and flopped down on the couch she vacated earlier. He continued to fidget with his bolts as he smirked up at her. 'G'on 'n get outta here afore she comes down on ya like a ton'a bricks.'

Beth's melodic laughter lingered in the room long after she left.

* * *

'Daryl. I'm ready. I want to come.'

There was a stunned pause.

'You-You wha'?'

'I _said_ I'm ready. I want to come. Will you let me come? Oh please, Daryl!'

Daryl turned to her and Beth couldn't explain his wide-eyed expression. A green foxtail hung from his gaping mouth and he looked like a spooked horse ready to bolt. Finally, he shook his head and huffed. 'Ya need ta start explainin' yourself better, girl.'

Beth pouted as he turned his back on her and bent over the map spread out on the hood of their vehicle. A gas station was to be their shelter for the night. They had stopped earlier in the day to fill their tanks up and had been lucky enough to find a local map in the small, broken down store attached to the gas station. Unfortunately, the two nearest towns were too far away for them to reach before nightfall, so Rick decided their best option was to camp out beside the gas pumps for the night. They would have used the store for shelter, only the windows had been shattered and glass littered the entire floor and they didn't have time to clean the mess before dark.

Beth came to stand beside him and retorted, 'How many ways do you need me ta say it? I want to come with you on your run tomorrow. What else would I have meant?'

'Don' you sass me, sunshine. Ain't ma fault you're all wide eyes and innocence.'

Beth scrunched her nose, utterly confused. 'What? What are you talkin' about?'

Daryl rubbed one of his eyes with the back of his hand. He looked exhausted. 'Nevermand.' He grumbled, then as an after thought: 'And no.'

'No?'

'No.'

Beth threw her hands in the air in frustration. By consulting the map, the group had discovered a large mall located just outside the nearest town to them. Rick wanted to investigate the mall since they were running low on supplies. Beth felt she was ready for this run.

Beth clutched his shoulder, determined, and turned him to face her. Part of her knew Daryl was more than capable of resisting her, so she felt a momentary touch of gratitude that he was willing to at least hear her out. 'I'm ready, Daryl. You've taught me so much, and I'm not being cocky 'cause I know I've still got a lot to learn. But you've made me stronger, I _feel_ stronger. I'm capable of looking after myself now.' Beth realised then that he looked undecided, so she quickly pushed on. 'Besides, its not like I'll be goin' alone. Glenn and T-Dog will be there. And you.'

Daryl turned his head from her, towards the map. 'I'll talk to Rick.' He said finally. At her excited squeal, he rushed to add, 'I ain't promisin' nuthin'. It's up to Rick. If he don' wan' ya ta go, ya don' go. Got it?'

Beth nodded, enthusiastic. 'Thanks, Daryl.'

Daryl returned to the map and as she was about to bound away, he called her to come closer. He pointed to a small rectangle shape on the map. 'This here's a prison. Rick reckon's its the safest place for us ta settle.'

Beth frowned. 'A prison? But what about the towns we're visitin' tomorrow? There'll be plenty of houses ta choose from.'

But Daryl shook his head. 'A house in a town will be no good. We'll only encounter the same troubles we did last month. There'll always be a big walker risk in a place tha' was once populated with people. Th'prison... could be different.' Beth watched his eyes closely. He looked conflicted. 'Rick wants ta take a look. He's gettin' desperate. Lori needs a safe place to have the baby. The lil' trouble will be comin' any day. We need a safe place.'

Beth bit her lip. 'I think we should take the chance.' Daryl stared at her from the corner of his eye and she knew he was listening intently. 'You're right. Lori needs a safe place ta raise the baby. We can't keep doin' what we've done this winter. It ain't safe for the baby or us. Even the mall... The mall would be too big for us to handle, if it isn't already overrun. Plus there's always a chance of runnin' into other groups lookin' for supplies. The prison looks like our only option.'

Daryl stared at her for a moment longer, then nodded. ''s wha' I though'.'

Beth smiled gently and said with complete devotion, 'Whatever you decide, I stand by you and Rick. You both know what's best for this group.'

It was small, but Daryl smiled.

* * *

'Hey.'

'Hey. Wha' you doin' up?'

Beth's thin shoulders jerked in an uncomfortable shrug and she offered no reply. Beth had her sleeping bag slung loosely around her shoulders and she clutched each corner of the grubby cover close to her chest. She hesitantly shuffled a bit closer to him and Daryl couldn't understand her sudden nervousness. She brought one corner of her blanket up to her lips and asked in a shy tone, 'You sure you're gonna be warm in there by yourself?'

He glanced at the low ceiling and exposed windows and shrugged. Due to the abundant amount of reactive liquid that surrounded the area, they couldn't start a fire to keep them warm, so they all had to huddle close together for body warmth for the night. Daryl could admit, however grudgingly, that he was coming to like the group he was stuck with, but there was no way in hell he going to spoon T-Dog. He still needed his own space and he still had days where he wanted to wander off into the woods and keep walking. So instead of joining them, he folded down the back seat of the car to use as a bed for the night. 'Yeah. Got my poncho back.' Daryl teased and watched her duck her head and smile into her sleeping bag. They were quite for a moment and Daryl knew she had something on her mind. 'What'cha really want, Beth?'

Beth pulled her blanket tighter around her. She shifted from foot to foot and Daryl noticed a piece of stray hair shadow her face that he wished to brush away from her face. 'I'm cold.' She finally admitted reluctantly. Daryl, without a second thought to his own needs, began to shimmy out of his poncho but stopped when he heard her quietly protest. 'N-No! No, I don't want your poncho, Daryl. I...' Her voice shook and gave out and he allowed her a moment to collect herself. 'I was thinkin',' she continued, 'Maybe I could sleep in here too. That way we could keep each other warm.'

He felt his body tense and a familiar heat pooled in his gut at the thought of sharing a small, confined space with Beth. Yet, the truth was, he wasn't sure he could control his actions with her so close for an extended period of time. 'That's not a good idea, girl.' His heart dropped as he uttered the words.

Beth stepped the slightest bit closer to the open trunk of the car. 'Why not?' Beth challenged and he didn't know where to start.

He laid back on his elbows and stared down his body at her scrunched up face. He sighed and said, 'It's wrong, Beth.' Surely she knew it was wrong. 'What would your daddy say if he saw you sleepin' with me?'

Daryl watched her open her mouth, ready to protest, and part of him begged her to think of a reason, any reason, that he could not dispute. Instead, her shoulders slumped and she whispered out a defeated, 'O-Okay.'

Daryl surveyed the way she turned away and headed back over to her sleeping father. He should have felt relieved, proud even, that he had the strength to turn her away. But he didn't. He laid back, heaved a tired sigh, then threw his arm across his eyes. He wouldn't think of her, he refused to think of her. 'Oh, for...' He groaned and sat up. He spied her laying her sleeping blanket out and, despite the multiple warning sounds that went off in his head, he hissed, 'Beth!' Her head shot in his direction. 'Get in here 'fore I change ma mind.'

Daryl decided any and all difficulties he would endure for the rest of the night would be worth it when he saw the beaming smile she wore, because of him, as she scurried her way towards him. Beth lifted herself into the trunk and crawled her way over to him. This girl would be the death of him.

She settled down into the space beside him, then she pulled her blanket over her small form and curled on her side to face him. Daryl kept his eyes firmly fixed on the low ceiling, prayed she would just fall right to sleep and counted the seconds it took for her to settle.

'Daryl?'

There was no God. 'Yeah?'

He heard the rustle of sheets beside him and closed his eyes. Jesus Goddamn fucking Christ, he actually felt the urge to hold her. 'Thanks for convincing Rick ta let me go on the run tomorrow.' He grunted and he hoped she would take the hint and go to sleep. No such luck. 'Did you two come to a decision about the prison?'

He could smell her. It was intoxicating. Daryl's heart began to pound hard against his ribcage. He threw his arm over his eyes again and almost blanched when he heard how low his voice had become. 'Rick's still thinkin' it over, but he ain' gonna let the opportunity pass. He'll wan' ta check the place out, at least.'

'That's good,' was all she said in response and Daryl really needed her to go to sleep now.

'Daryl?'

He groaned and snapped, 'I though' you wanted sum sleep, girl.'

It was silent for a moment and Daryl felt a momentary pang of regret. It wasn't her fault that he was attracted to her. That he couldn't stop thinking about her. 'I do. I just... Remember tha' time with Shane?'

Daryl drew his eyebrows in question. He was curious to find out where she was going with this. 'Yeah.'

There was a pause before she answered. 'You were right. He was hurtin' me.'

His nostrils flared at the admission and his jaw clenched in remembrance. He could picture that day in detail; he remembered the ringed bruise around her neck and her face crumpled in fear. His hands fisted and he lifted his arm from his eyes and turned his head to her. A thin pool of moonlight beamed through the car window and bathed Beth in its soft glow. It shone her hair and lit up her youthful features. She looked so lovely in the moonlight she made his heart ache. Her eyes were big and solemn and pierced his heart. 'Why?' He asked, his voice like gravel.

Her eyes traced the entirety of his face and he swore he could feel the trail they left on his skin. Then she lowered her gaze and brought her blanket closer to her and shuffled the slightest bit closer to him. He found himself not caring. 'I found him pointing a gun at Rick. He didn't want me ta tell. I'm pretty sure he was only trying to scare me.' Her gaze dropped then. 'I'm not really sure why I'm tellin' you now. I guess I just want you ta know.'

Daryl stared at her for what felt like an eternity until she ultimately glanced back up at him. The scars were long gone from her neck but he would never forgive the madman that was once a member of his group. Without a trace of uncertainty, he uttered, ''m glad the bastard's dead.'

They stayed that way for a long time, simply facing each other and taking in the others presence, until Beth gradually began to fight to keep her eyes open. Daryl knew he shouldn't, but was yet again unable to resist, and he reached out and trailed his fingers through her hair. The golden strands were soft, if knotted, and her eyes fell shut and she let out a contented sigh that made him happy.

Daryl fell asleep that night to the sound of Beth's restful breathing and a poignant pain in his heart.

* * *

A/N: Just one last note: Daryl doing his naughty business in the snow is the most sexual thing I have ever written so far (as you can probably tell) so let me know if it was any good. I want to improve. Hope you enjoyed!


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I have nothing to say except thank you thank you thank you to everyone who reviewed. Beautiful, inspiring people, the lot of you.

* * *

Good Men

CHAPTER 7

The last remnants of her dream gradually waned as a quite, rhythmic rumble close to her ear awoke her from a deep sleep. Beth's entire body pressed against something solid and soft and she let out a low, appreciative hum at the gentle warmth that radiated from the comfortable object. A compelling aroma of cut grass and petrichor and engine oil and sandalwood accompanied a familiar thick, musky scent that perfumed the compact space and slowly attempted to soothe her back to sleep. Beth nestled her nose further into the heat, then furrowed her eyebrows as she recognised the tickling texture to resemble soft strands of hair. Beth yawned, her sleep clouded mind slow to react. Her eyes fluttered open and her vision was completely obstructed by a familiar brown mane of hair.

Startled, Beth raised her head away from the unwashed head of hair and blinked down at the body beside her.

At some point during the night her body must have sought out Daryl's for warmth. Her body was curled snugly around his side and her hands were tucked up close to his underarm. Daryl lay on his back with his face turned to press into the curve of her neck and an arm slumped carelessly over the dip of her waist. A weighty thigh trapped her legs between his own and against the folded car seat. It took Beth's drowsy mind a moment to take in the sight and comprehend just how compromising the position was, but when it hit her, she could feel her whole body burn from the strength of her blush.

Her mind started with a suddenness that almost sent her into a panic and it was then, as her mind raced with different suggestions to get her out of this predicament without waking Daryl—_Who would have a fit,_ a voice in the background of her mind warned—that Beth caught the quite rumble that roused her from sleep earlier. Beth's eyes drifted down to Daryl's sleep softened features and lingered on his parted lips and she realised then: Daryl was snoring.

The even rumbles were scarcely audible over the moaning of the new morning breeze and helped to calm Beth's scrambled thoughts. She had been in almost constant company with Daryl throughout the winter months, yet she had never once heard him snore. Just for a moment, she allowed herself to consider, to _hope_, that maybe Daryl felt secure enough in her arms to drift off into a deeper, restful slumber. He certainly deserved it. Yet the thought almost made her scoff. She was ridiculous, desperate even, to assume that Daryl might need her in some way. In any way. It was wishful thinking.

Beth sighed, and it sounded woeful to her sympathetic ears. She then dared to let her bold fingers brush his unkempt hair away from the side of his face and stared down at his turned head with a heartfelt fondness. Her curious eyes traced the thin worry lines on his small forehead and admired the sharpness of his cheekbone with eagerness. She followed the elegant arch of his long nose that hooked over narrow lips and yearned to caress his stubbled cheek and sturdy jaw and rounded chin. His skin was tanned from years of roaming through the Georgian woods and grimy from their living-off-the-land lifestyle. Her eyes caught sight of a long, faded scar that ran along his hairline just above his ear and she puzzled over the story behind it.

Beth smiled down at his attractive countenance, slackened in sleep, her heart open and beating with affection. Carefully, so as not to wake him, she settled back down beside him and nuzzled her nose deep into his hair once more.

She couldn't know how long she stayed that way, but she knew she didn't care if she wasted the entire day. She savoured and revelled in the experience of having Daryl's body so close to her own in such an intimate fashion and listened with a bitter-sweet sting in her heart to the gentle rumbles that emitted from between his parted lips, because Beth doubted she would ever have the chance to wake up beside Daryl again.

After a time, Daryl's snoring dwindled, then ceased altogether and his breathing gradually became shallower, and Beth braced herself because she knew he was beginning to wake up. Daryl sighed sleepily and moved closer to her and murmured something unintelligible against her neck. The arm that stretched out over her body curled inwards, towards her, and the very tips of his fingers whispered up the length of her arm to grip the back of her shoulder. Daryl fisted her shirt and yawned and arched his back as he stretched out against her, his hip pressing hard into her stomach, and her body sung.

Mid-stretch, his body froze. 'The f-?'

'Shh.' Beth hushed. She prayed he wouldn't react too badly and without thought patted his chest. 'It's just me.'

'Beth?' Her name was nothing more than a guttural groan against the curve of her neck.

'Mmhmm.'

She felt his eyelashes flitter like butterfly wings over her skin and she found it deeply intimate. 'Am I still sleepin'?'

Beth huffed out a quiet laugh. 'You're awake. Barely, but you are.'

Daryl went to move, to get up and away from her, but Beth wasn't willing to let this moment end just yet. With a fearlessness she didn't usually possess around the redneck, Beth pressed her hand harder on his chest and it caused Daryl to pause. 'The sun's not up yet.' She commented, then whispered, shy and sure he would deny her, 'Stay. Stay with me.'

For a minute that could have lasted a lifetime to Beth, Daryl stayed tense and rigid against her and she waited with bated breath for him to scoff, to move far away from her and admonish her, to tell her how being pressed up against a child, a _little girl_, was inappropriate and wrong and repulsive. Only he didn't; Daryl slowly, as though still undecided, relaxed his body against her own and the hand on her shoulder slipped away to wriggle between them and wedge itself against his side and her stomach. He cleared his throat, a nervous habit that she had become familiar with over the long months, and, his voice as rough as sandpaper and low and cracked from sleep, asked, 'You sure I ain't sleepin'?'

Beth smiled against his locks, despite her confusion over his inability to believe her. 'Do you need me ta pinch you? 'Cause I'll do it.'

Daryl grunted against her neck and the short vibration sent pleasant shivers from her neck all the way down to the tips of her curling toes. 'No need. Ma dream Beth don't dare ta sass me.'

Her hand trailed up his clothed chest and rested over his heart. 'Don't _dare_ ta, is it?'

'That's righ'. If she _dared_ I'd give 'er a good n' proper spanking.'

All of the air _whooshed _out of her lungs at his thoughtless response and a tiny, unseemly voice from the deepest recesses of her mind purred to her just how much she wanted that spanking, wanted Daryl's hands on her in any way, how bad she was willing to be for him and only him, how good it would be to have Daryl dominate her so completely. Beth closed her eyes, ashamed and unwilling to believe the unwanted voice, and she was frantic to think of something, anything else to change the subject because she could feel Daryl tensing beside her again and despite the awkwardness, she didn't want to leave his arms yet. She didn't want to leave his arms period.

Beth buried her cheek further into his hair, then it came to her. 'Your hair is getting long,' Beth observed and her voice only trembled once. 'I like it.' She brushed her fingers through his growing brunette locks and lost her breath again when Daryl crooned against her neck.

She felt him stiffen the instant the quiet trill left him, embarrassed by his incapability to control his mouth in his half asleep state, and before she could try to placate him, he ripped himself out of her hold. Beth gasped at the suddenness of the action and had to bit her lip to stop herself from pathetically begging him to stay in her arms again. She felt cold without him so close and her chest felt vacant, as if her heart was no longer there. For a split second she even questioned whether or not she would be able to sleep without him any more. Waking up beside Daryl had felt right, somehow. She stared at Daryl with saddened eyes as he sat up and hunched his shoulders to avoid the low roof of the car. He didn't look at her once as he reached for his rucksack and pulled out his ration of cigarettes and matches, then shuffled over to the open trunk to dangle his legs over the side.

Beth pulled herself up and wrapped her arms around her bent knees. The air was thick with tension and an uncomfortable silence descended between the pair. She watched the way the thinning material of Daryl's shirt stretched tight along his shoulders as he lit the tip of the cigarette and tossed the match away. _Don't pull away... _Beth pleaded silently to his back. No, she wouldn't let him.

Her eyes narrowed in determination and she threw the blankets off her and, undeterred by the bite in the early morning air, crawled towards Daryl's unsuspecting form. Once Beth reached him, she nudged his arm with her hand and ducked her head under his arm to nestle into his side. He flinched at her touch and his head snapped down so that he could glare at her. She curled his strong arm over her shoulders and leaned into him and stared up at his uncertain expression with—at least what she hoped to be—an encouraging smile.

Daryl's gaze was controlled and pierced right through her but she wouldn't waver. His heavy sigh was his gesture of surrender and she grinned in victory once he had turned away to take another drag from his cigarette, the tip burning orange.

No more words were exchanged as Beth remained tucked up against his side, warm and complete once more, and waited for Daryl to finish his cigarette. The musty odour of burnt tobacco remained suspended in the cold air long after the coiling tendrils of smoke faded away and the turbid, acrid vapour stung the back of her throat. Daryl stubbed his cigarette out against the rear bumper and removed his arm from her. 'It's gonna be a long day, girl. Go n' get ready for the run.' Daryl ordered. 'And make sure you got your knife.' He scratched his jawline and muttered as an afterthought, 'Gonna hav'ta find ya a gun. I reckon Carol will lend ya hers. Gonna hav'ta remind me ta ask her 'fore we split up.'

'All right.' Beth acquiesced and braced herself on the edge of the trunk.

'Beth. Look at me.' Beth paused and twisted to face him. She looked up at his drowsy eyes and gentle expression and sleep-swollen lips and had the fervent urge to kiss him. 'Don', under any circumstances, wander off taday.' Beth went to duck her head, but Daryl caught her chin. 'I mean it.' He looked so serious, so earnest, and she nodded her understanding. His fingers pinched her chin tighter. 'Say it. Tell me you won' leave ma sigh'.'

Beth delighted in Daryl's total dedication to protect her. 'I won' leave your sight, Daryl. I promise.'

He seemed appeased at her promise. Then his thumb began a gentle trail along her jawline, right up to the joint of her jaw where the tip of his thumb tickled the edge of her earlobe. Daryl's eyes slowly travelled downwards and her heart jolted hard in her chest when she realised his shimmering-blue eyes hovered over her lips. Beth let herself believe, as she witnessed his eyes become warm and heavy-lidded, that she may be attractive, perhaps even desirable, to him, but then he glanced away and relinquished his hold on her chin and Beth chided herself. She was a child to him, a friend at the most. He would never see her how she wished, he would never feel what she felt for him. Beth had to come to terms with that, and quickly.

* * *

Beth hummed a half-forgotten nursery rhyme to Lori's unborn baby. During the ride to the mall, Lori had complained of the baby's constant kicking and squirming, and Beth had taken pity on her. She had offered to sing to the baby since, more often than not, her singing helped to settle the child down.

She finished the upbeat tune and stroked the stretched skin as if it was the baby's head. 'You're already causing your mama plenty of trouble.' She cooed and pressed her cheek against Lori's swollen stomach.

Lori groaned and she sounded like she was being tortured. 'Why is it that women forget just how terrible an experience pregnancy is until we're _pregnant__ again?'_

Beth smiled up at Lori and patted her stomach in sympathy, only to receive a little a little kick in return. Beth squeaked and recoiled from the little devil. She rubbed her cheek and laughed. 'Your child is going to be a strong little thing.' Beth predicted, completely smitten with the baby already. Boy or girl, the baby would have them all wrapped around its little finger, Beth was sure.

Lori lovingly rubbed her stomach. 'I hope it's a girl this time. I've always wanted a girl.'

Beth grinned and wondered with a pang of longing whether her mama had sung her and Shawn lullabies when she had been pregnant with them, like Beth did for Lori's baby. God, she missed her mama. Beth rested her head on Lori's stomach and begun to hum to the fidgeting child again. Beth closed her eyes and imagined a little baby girl in Ricks arms, with a tuft of mahogany brown hair and a cute, scrunched up face and tiny arms that would wave impatiently for more of her daddy's attention. Beth smiled gently at the picture; she would be a pretty little thing.

'Ready, Beth?' At Maggie's sudden inquiry, Beth's humming halted and her eyes snapped open.

Beth lifted her head from Lori's stomach and her hand automatically went to her belt. Her fingers wrapped around the handle of her knife, then she nodded at Maggie. 'I'm ready.' Beth stated with a confidence she genuinely felt and stood up.

'Be safe.' Lori implored with a strained smile and she had to use the handle attached to the car door to help herself up from the car seat.

'I will.' Beth replied, then placed a hand on Lori's stomach. 'See you soon, baby.'

With a wave, Beth and Maggie turned and started towards the spare vehicle she and the guys would be using to load up with supplies. She found Daryl leaning against the passenger door with Glenn and Beth felt her confidence grow. Maggie sighed beside her and linked her arm through Beth's, just like they used to when they were little. 'You've got nothin' to prove, Beth. You don't have to—'

Beth frowned and interrupted her. 'I've told you enough times, Maggie. I want to.'

Her arm tightened around Beth's and it almost hurt. 'I should be coming with you.'

'The guys will keep me safe. And Daryl's been training me for months. I'm really not as helpless as I used ta be, Maggie.'

Maggie gave a vague hum in response and Beth's eyes narrowed. 'What? What is it?'

'Nothing.'

'It's something.'

Maggie took the time to search for the right words and brushed her fingers through her brunette tresses. Even during an apocalypse, Maggie managed to look stunning. Beth often wished she looked more like her big sister. 'Look, I know Daryl's a great guy. He's been good to all of us. Took it upon himself ta train you, even. I'll always be grateful to him for that.' Maggie paused and Beth bit her lip in worry. Maggie had always been a strong, opinionated woman, something Beth had always admired, so to see her struggle to voice her concerns made Beth suspicious. Whatever Maggie had to say, Beth would not like it. 'It's just... Men only do things when they think they're gettin' somethin' out of it, Bethy.'

Beth halted in her step and Maggie jolted from the abrupt action. Beth turned to gape at her sister, her eyes wide and disbelieving. 'You honestly think...' Beth tried to speak, but she was truly at a loss of words. She was reminded of how little her sister, and most of the others in the group, knew of Daryl. Without a single doubt in her mind, Beth stated with enough force, 'Not Daryl. He's like daddy.'

Maggie drew her eyebrows and pursed her lips the way she always did when she thought Beth was being naive. 'Daddy's no saint, Bethy.'

'Then he's even better than daddy.' Beth countered and stared her sister down with such intent and stubbornness that Maggie could only sigh and roll her eyes.

'Whatever. Just come here and give me a hug, you stubborn bitch.' Maggie huffed, but there was no real heat behind her words. She smirked at Beth's pout and opened her arms out wide and gathered Beth into a crushing hug. Beth relaxed into the familiar hold and held her tight. Her sister always gave the best hugs. 'You be careful, Beth. I've told Glenn to keep an extra eye on you. If you come back with even a scratch...'

'Maggie, it's just a small run!' Beth cried, exasperated.

'Beth.' At the low-toned utterance of her name, Beth let out a relieved sigh. Her daddy slipped an arm around each of his daughters shoulders and pulled them close. 'You should know by now your sister is just overprotective of you.' Beth groaned, annoyed, and dropped her forehead onto her daddy's sturdy chest. Hershel chuckled at her over-the-top reaction and squeezed Maggie's shoulders. 'Go and say goodbye to Glenn.' He urged her and gestured towards Glenn's general direction. 'He's been staring at you like a kicked puppy.'

Maggie's face lit up beautifully. She pressed a chaste kiss to Beth's forehead, then left Hershel alone with his youngest daughter.

Her daddy grasped her chin lightly between his thumb and forefinger, much like Daryl had earlier that morning, and his eyes memorised her face as a loving, parental expression graced his ageing features. 'When did you grow up?' He whispered with a nostalgic ring in his tone. Beth felt hot blood pool in her cheeks and she shifted awkwardly, unused to seeing such a sentimental side to her father. The smallest of smiles tipped the corners of his lips and he pressed a kiss to her forehead, just as Maggie had. 'Be safe, Bethy. Please.' He murmured against her skin and her throat tightened at the torment she heard behind those words.

'I will, daddy. I promise.' Beth felt her promise settle deep within her heart and she knew she couldn't cause her daddy any more heartache. She wasn't sure he would be able to cope if he lost her or Maggie. 'I promise I'll come back. I have Daryl looking after me. He won't let anything happen to me.'

Hershel gently forced her away from him and held her shoulders at arms length. There was an odd glimmer in his crinkled eyes as he admitted with unequivocal certainty, 'He is a good man.' Beth stared up at her daddy in wonder. To know her daddy saw Daryl in the same light as herself erased any doubt she may have had about him. Daryl truly was a good man. And Hershel may not realise it, but he had just given Beth his blessing.

Beth beamed up at him. 'He is. He's a very good man.'

Before too long, the group parted ways. Rick's group departed for the nearest town where they would find shelter for the night and left T-Dog, Glenn, Beth and Daryl to gather their needed supplies from the super-sized mall. The area was deserted and silent and Daryl assured them that there were no recent walker tracks around the building. As they neared the glass structure, Beth noticed the once automatic sliding doors used for the main entrance had already been smashed. Beth knew that could possibly indicated others had already looted the mall before them. Beth only hoped there were enough supplies left for her group.

Daryl held his hand up and they instantly stopped. Beth watched him with a raising anxiousness she tried to smother as Daryl stepped over the remaining fragments left of the doors, his crossbow raised and ready, and shards of glass crunched nosily under his heavy boots. After a quick scout of the enormous area, Daryl motioned them to come forward, then disappeared from view.

T-Dog was the first to follow, then Glenn stepped up next to her. 'You go on, Beth. I've got your back.' Glenn reassured her and Beth was grateful to have him with her.

Once Beth had climbed through, she scrutinized the wide area with keen eyes, just as Daryl had taught her. The wide expense was made up of small, diverse stores, with a couple of dust-coated candy carts scattered around the main strip. A motionless escalator provided the only route to the upper floor where an extensive supermarket was situated.

Daryl appeared beside them and gestured to the stores before them. 'The place is clear. We can spread out ta save sum time. Get whatever you think the group needs. When y'all are done, we'll meet back here and check out the supermarket tagether.'

'Sounds like a plan.' T-Dog approved, then started off in a random direction.

Glenn motioned to Beth to follow him but Daryl placed a hand on her shoulder and nodded at Glenn. 'Beth can come wit' me.' Glenn nodded and with a last, reassuring smile at Beth, Glenn took off after T-Dog.

Daryl's hand slipped away from her shoulder, yet Beth felt his touch long after he withdrew, as though his palm had branded her skin as his own. 'Lori said sumthin' 'bout gettin' baby clothes.' He said, then pointed to the nearest children's store. 'Go an' have a look in there. I'mma be in the weapons store opposite. I'll be able ta keep an eye on ya tha' way.'

Beth nodded and wandered over to the store. On the way, she passed one of the candy carts and couldn't stop herself from taking a quick look. She couldn't remember the last time she had a piece of candy. _Too long,_ she decided. There was a rainbow of brands to choose from and she didn't even try to resist as her hand reached for a Kit Kat bar. She tore eagerly at the wrapper, brought a chocolate finger to her mouth and bit down. A burst of sweetness danced on her tongue and she almost squirmed on the spot from the sheer pleasure. She grabbed a handful of bars and shoved them in her rucksack.

'Though' I said we was only gettin' stuff we actually need.' Daryl's voice startled her and she blushed, bashful.

She grinned up at him and playfully countered, 'Snacks are a necessity.'

Daryl smirked down at her, then his hand snapped out and stole the remaining chocolate finger. He disregarded her irked, 'Hey!' and sauntered off towards the weapons store. Beth reluctantly smiled, she enjoyed his rare mischievous side. She threw a couple more bars into her rucksack for the others and headed for the children's store. The shelves were full and Beth was easily able to collect a small number of newborn clothes and bottles and blankets and she even managed to find a pacifier. She placed them all in her bag and did another once-over of the store to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything vital for the baby that was due any day soon.

Beth picked up the sound of a sharp whistle and she glanced over to the weapons store to find Daryl vying for her attention. He held his hands up and Beth saw an unfamiliar crossbow in his hands. She tilted her head in question and he lifted an eyebrow at her in an are-you-stupid expression. Beth gasped when it finally registered what it was he was suggesting. 'For me?' She called over to him, her excitement barely contained. Daryl only smirked at her and motioned with his head for her to come and take a look at the weapon for herself.

Beth hefted her weighty rucksack onto her shoulder and made her way out of the store. Beth practically skipped towards him and almost missed the sudden movement in the corner of her eye. Beth craned her head in the direction, not expecting to find anything of importance, and froze in her tracks at the horrifying sight before her. An endless herd of walkers surrounded the mall and were pressed up against the cracking glass walls. Further, many of the undead beings had found the smashed entrance and were making their way inside. 'Daryl!' Beth shrieked and her hand went straight for her knife.

Daryl was by her side in a second. He took in the sight with a single glance and cursed. 'We need ta find Glenn and T-Dog.' He exclaimed and seized her hand. 'C'mon!' He ordered and dragged her away from the walkers that closed in on them.

They heard a loud shatter from somewhere behind them and Beth turned to find the glass had caved to the weight of the walkers and splintered. Walkers upon walkers begun to pile in through the new gap. Her heart stopped at the sight and she gripped at Daryl's hand for strength. They rounded a corner and T-Dog and Glenn were there, running towards them. 'Man, have you seen the size of the herd?' T-Dog bellowed. 'I ain't seen one this big since the farm.'

'Where did they even come from?' Glenn asked, but no one had an answer.

Together, they sprinted through the mall until the glass wall beside them smashed and millions of shards rained down on them. Beth felt a sting on her cheek but she didn't have time to examine it because a huge wave of walkers crashed down around them and all Beth could do was stab at any that got too close. She ripped her knife from the temple of one walker and searched for her group, only to find them a far distance away. Fear spiralled in the pit of her stomach and she shouted for Daryl. She slashed at another walker and saw Daryl searching wildly for her and tried to make herself visible to him, but then another wall of walkers blocked her path and she had to retreat.

Beth twisted on the spot and ran in the opposite direction. Walkers surrounded the main entryway, but Beth was able to find a small break in the glass that she was sure she would be able to escape through. She fought her way over to her escape route, adrenaline making her a force to be reckoned with, and she ducked through the gap. The tiny glimmer of hope she felt spluttered and gave out as a resisting force jerked her body to a stop and caused her knife to fling out of her hand. She twisted and found her shirt snagged on a jagged piece of glass.

Beth whimpered and her trembling hands tugged at her shirt, then a walker was right in her face and Beth screamed. Panic-stricken, she wrenched at her shirt but then the walker hand its filthy hands on her and she knew this was it; she was going to die. Beth held her breath, petrified and unready, when a thick blade rammed itself through the walkers skull and halted inches from her temple.

_Daryl?_ The rotten body fell away, but it wasn't Daryl that greeted her. She stared, paralysed, into unfamiliar squinting eyes. A big, grizzly man towered over her. 'Don't jus' stand there n' let ma generosity go ta waste, girl. Get movin'!' The man didn't talk, he growled. His command quickly snapped her to attention, if for no other reason than to not test his patience.

Beth pulled at the material of her shirt, but the man snarled and sliced his blade clean through the fabric. Beth almost tumbled over from the sudden separation. But the large man was there, again, and caught her shoulder and rightened her. 'That's it, darlin'.' She wondered if the man was making an attempt to calm her, then she realised he had succeeded. He turned her and shoved her forward. 'Follow me.' He ordered and started off without waiting for a response.

And Beth did follow him. She didn't really have another option, and the man had saved her life. She picked up her knife and watched his bulky muscles flex and tense as he took down the closest walkers with an ease that could rival Daryl. She helped to fight off the walkers whenever she could as they slowly advanced over to a beaten down pickup truck. It was then, with a hit of reality, that Beth remembered she had no idea who this man was, if he was friend or foe. She skidded to a stop and the man noticed. 'The fuck you doin'? Get your ass over ta the truck.'

Beth shook her head. 'I have to find my group.'

She could see him grit his teeth and she would wager he had a terrible temper. 'Look around ya, girlie. Even if yer group was still alive, you won' never find them with this herd lurkin' 'round.' Beth knew he was right and she felt a surge of misplaced hate for his honesty.

'I can't jus' leave them.'

'Jesus Christ, girl, you ain't gonna find 'em.' He barked and climbed into the truck. 'Way I see it, ya have two choices: ya can come wit' me and stay somewhere safe fer the night and come back tamorrow if th'herd's gone and find them then, or ya can stay here an' get ripped apart by them walkers creepin' up behind ya.'

Beth glanced behind her and knew he was right. The only way for her to survive would be to trust and go with this man, this stranger. She wouldn't say another word about her group to him, Rick had made it clear the safety of the group was what mattered most and she completely agreed with him. She would come back tomorrow and find them. Even if she didn't find them at the mall, she knew where they were headed. She would go back to the gas station, pick up another map and make her way to the prison. And what really turned her plan in her favour was that she knew Daryl would look for her. He wouldn't stop until he found her.

Beth, with a heavy weight on her shoulders, jogged up to the truck and climbed inside.

* * *

'Where is she? Can anyone see her?'

Glenn's words buzzed in Daryl's ears to the point where he couldn't make any sense of the sentence. The world around him was slow and numb and dull to his unblinking eyes. T-Dog was out in front of him, he knew that. Glenn was already at their vehicle, he assumed, though he wasn't too sure. He was near, though. And Beth...

Beth was gone.

A forceful shove and a snarled, 'Daryl!' had him blink back into focus. T-Dog stood before him, his muscles rippling and his expression like thunder. 'Wake up, man! You're gonna get yourself bit. We ain't ever gonna find Beth if you turn.'

T-Dog was right and Daryl's nostrils flared with the utter anger he felt at himself. He nodded at the larger man to show he was back in his right mind and T-Dog, with one last sceptical glare, started for their vehicle. Daryl went to follow, but the faint sound of a running engine had him turning towards the source. In the distance, he spotted a rusty, cobalt blue pickup truck driving away from the mall and his heart sunk in his chest. Beth was in that truck. He felt it; he felt it in his bones, in every pore and deep within his heart. He felt it with every single fibre of his being.

'Beth!' Daryl cried, a wild panic piercing his thundering heart, and he sprinted over to their car.

Glenn was in the drivers seat and Daryl ripped the door open and barked at the startled Korean, 'Start the Goddamn car!'

The younger man recoiled from the venom in his voice. 'It's not starting. That's why I asked you and T-Dog to keep the walkers at bay.'

Daryl couldn't remember any command given but it didn't matter anyway. All that mattered was Beth. Without any thought to Glenn's safety, Daryl gripped him by his scruff and hauled him out of the vehicle. 'Go help T-Dog keep the walkers away.' He ordered with finality. Then he threw himself in front of the wheel and his fingers fumbled with the keys in his urgency. 'C'mon motherfucker.' Daryl roared in frustration as the engine yet again refused to start and he knew he should have brought his Triumph with him. He glanced up and his breath hitched when he saw the truck join onto the main road and drive away.

Daryl couldn't let them take Beth. _Nonono not Beth._ He hurled himself out of the car and took off after the truck as fast as his legs allowed. 'Beth!' He shouted with a frantic and furious need for her to be in his arms. She would be safe there. The pickup truck effortlessly surpassed his speed and he could only watch, helpless and crippled with self-blame, as the rear bumper quickly diminished with every inch that was placed between them, until the truck disappeared completely from sight. But Daryl pushed on, his determination to protect Beth unwilling to permit him to give up.

His lungs burned like never before and his legs weakened with every powerful step and he just needed Beth. Daryl was determined to push on, and would have, but then two arms wrapped around him and trapped him against a hard chest. He fought against steel-like arms and he thought he heard his name being called.

Then two hands clutched at his hair and a bellowed, 'Daryl stop!' had him freeze against the sturdy hold. Glenn was there, right in front of him, and T-Dog was growling in his ear.

Daryl gulped for breath and Glenn gradually released his hold on his hair. Daryl ripped himself from T-Dog's hold and he couldn't believe it, he couldn't believe he let Beth get away. Every instinct in his body screamed at him to continue after her, to never give up because _fuck knows _what would happen to her otherwise, but he didn't. He knew he needed to clear his head first. His chest heaved and his hands hovered out in front of him, as though he believed he could just reach out and stop the truck in its path.

'Beth, she's... she's in that... Beth...' He stammered and his mind spun, emotions erratic and suffocating as he tried to come to terms with the fact that she was _gone_. Just gone.

Something deep within Daryl's chest snuffed out like the flame of a candle bowing to a strong gust of wind. He was hollow.

Daryl staggered back and into Glenn.

'They... They took her—_they took her from me.'_

* * *

Beth's long nails dug deeply into her rucksack as she held the tattered, weighty bag against her chest and between her thighs and she wondered why it was that she always managed to attract danger. Beth pulled her lips over her teeth and bit down on them as she tried to come to terms with the turn of events. The beating of her heart was loud and fast in her ears but she didn't mind at all since she found it much more preferable to listening to the stranger beside her prattle on and on about how his group would keep her safe.

Beth breathed heavily through her nose in a weak attempt to try and keep her tears at bay and she wondered if Daryl believed she was dead. She visualized his pain, how he and Glenn and T-Dog would break the news to the group, then she thought of Maggie and her daddy and suddenly she found it hard to breathe.

Beth clutched the bag tighter to her chest and pressed her face into the rucksack and tried to remember the way she woke up that morning. She pretended the rough fabric of the rucksack was Daryl's scruffy locks, but the picture just made her pine after him all the more. Her broken heart was racing and she shifted in her seat to try and open her chest out more. Then she thought of her daddy, her poor, poor daddy. She had broken her promise to him. Beth panted harshly; she truly believed her daddy couldn't cope with another loss, and he didn't deserve to, either. Beth had to find her family tomorrow, for her daddy's sake.

'Hey. Hey, doll. What's th'matter wit' ya?'

Beth lifted her head and scraped at her neck. Her chest and the tips of her fingers had turned numb. 'I can't breathe!' She sobbed and heaved and the tears poured down her cheeks and dripped onto her frayed rucksack.

His rugged face creased in surprise and disgust and he growled deep in his throat. 'Fuck sake,' he muttered and pulled over to the side of the road.

Beth clawed at her clothing as her chest tightened and she didn't notice that the man had disappeared until her door was thrown open and the man's scowling face greeted her through her wet gaze. Without any warning, he wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her from the pickup truck and settled her onto the muddy ground. Her legs trembled and she clutched at him with utter desperation. 'I can't breathe.' She repeated hysterically because she was becoming light-headed.

'Turn 'round.' He instructed and she wasn't quite sure how she managed to do so on her rubber legs, but she did.

Her tears were warm and fat and her heart broke whenever she thought of her daddy or Maggie or Daryl. Her breathing was fast and shallow now and her chest ached. Then she felt a hard chest press against her back and a powerful arm wrap around her waist and she was thrown back to her very first training session with Daryl. 'Yer havin' a panic-attack, sugar. Ya need ta listen good ta me, ya hear?' Beth pressed her eyes closed and nodded her head and she hoped he was right. 'Breath wit' me, darlin'. In...' He breathed in and his wide chest pressed hard into her back. She inhaled with him. '... and out.' His breath blew cold over her ear and she envisioned Daryl in his place as she breathed out with him.

With her eyes closed, Beth could almost conjure up Daryl's soothing scent and imagined his strong arms around her and the weight of his head on top of her own. Her heart slowly begun to calm. 'That's it.' The tall man encouraged, and if she didn't know better she would have sworn he sounded uncomfortable. Beth melted against his wide chest as the feeling began to return to her chest and the tips of her fingers. His head dipped down to hover beside her ear. 'Been a long time since I've held such a pretty lil' thang in ma arms.' The man flirted and Beth's head fell forward. Then she froze.

The arm pressed against her stomach was completely disfigured. His hand and a fair bit of his wrist was missing and in its place was a long, sharp blade and she wondered, dazed, how she hadn't noticed before.

Beth turned her head to face him, her eyes wide and frightened.

His grin was feral. 'Nifty lil' thang, ain'it? And ta think, ol' Merle has a righteous asshole and a nigger ta thank for it.'

There was a stunned pause. 'Merle?'

'That's me, doll. Merle Dixon.'


End file.
